1 


MEMO 


SAMUEL  JOSEPH  MAY. 


UNIVERSITY 


BOSTON: 

AMERICAN    UNITARIAN  ASSOCIATION. 
1882. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873,  by 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,       (*' 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS  :  JOHN  WILSON  &  SON, 
CAMBRIDGE. 


THIS    BRIEF 

LIFE    OF    SAMUEL   JOSEPH    MAY 

Is  Beoicatetr 

To  the  memory  of  his  father,  JOSEPH  MAY,  the  faithful  guide  of  his  childhood  ; 

to  JOHN  THORNTON  KIRKLAND,  HENRY  WARE,  NOAH  WORCESTER, 

and  WILLIAM   ELLERY  CHANNING,  the  guides  of  his 

youth  and  early  manhood; 


To  all  those,  living  or  departed,  who  aided  in  or  sympathized  with  his  devoted 

labors  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  peace,  temperance,  education,  and 

the  advancement  of  the  Gospel  of  JESUS  CHRIST. 


PREFACE. 


IN  July,  1871,  Mr.  May's  family  asked  GEORGE 
B.  EMEKSON,  SAMUEL  MAY,  and  THOMAS  J. 
MUMFOBD  to  attend  to  the  preparation  of  a  suit 
able  Memoir;  and  this  committee  intrusted  the 
editing  of  the  work  to  its  youngest  member. 

A  considerable  portion  of  the  volume  consists 
of  a  partial  autobiography.  To  this  is  added  some 
extracts  from  a  diary.  The  succeeding  chapters 
have  been  furnished  by  members  of  the  committee, 
assisted  by  many  kind  friends,  including  Messrs. 
C.  D.  B.  Mills,  Joseph  A.  Allen,  William  Lloyd 
Garrison,  A.  Bronson  Alcott,  W.  P.  Tilden,  G.  W. 
Hosmer,  Edgar  Buckingham,  T.  W.  Higginson, 
and  Joseph  May. 

The  story  of  Mr.  May's  antislavery  career  is 
now  presented  in  a  condensed  form,  because  it 
was  given  to  the  public  some  years  ago  in  his 
"  Recollections  of  the  Antislavery  Conflict." 

The  chief  purpose  of  the  compilers  of  this  book 
has  been  to  impart  such  a  truthful  impression  of 
its  subject's  character  as  shall  make  young  men 
see  the  beauty  and  feel  the  power  of  a  noble 
life. 


CONTENTS. 


I.    CHILDHOOD 1 

II.     CHILDHOOD  CONCLUDED 13 

III.  SCHOOL  DAYS 22 

IV.  COLLEGE  LIFE 29 

V.    PREPARATION  FOR  THE  MINISTRY 42 

VI.    HORSEBACK  JOURNEY  TO  WHITE  MOUNTAINS     .  50 
VII.    BEGINS  TO  PREACH,  AND   TAKES  A  SOUTHERN 

JOURNEY 59 

VIII.    BROOKLYN,  CONN 76 

IX.    BROOKLYN,  CONN.,  CONCLUDED 105 

X. '  FROM  THE  DIARY 129 

XI.    ANTISLAVERY 138 

XII.    SOUTH  SCITUATE,  1836-1842 163 

XIII.  PRINCIPAL  OF  THE   STATE  NORMAL  SCHOOL  AT 

LEXINGTON 171 

XIV.  MINISTRY  AT  SYRACUSE 183 

XV.    1859,  EUROPE 196 

XVI.    ANTISLAVERY 217 

XVII.    SANITARY     COMMISSION,    AND     SOLDIERS'    AND 

FREEDMEN'S  RELIEF 226 

XVIII.     CHARACTERISTICS 231 

XIX.    PERSONAL  TRAITS  AND  HOME  LIFE 260 

XX.    CLOSING  YEARS 281 

XXI.    DEATH  AND  BURIAL 291 


SKETCH 


LIFE   OF   SAMUEL   J.  MAY, 


CHAPTER    I. 

CHILDHOOD. 

ANCESTORS.  —  DEATH  OF  HIS  BROTHER  EDWARD. — HEAVENLY 
VISIONS.  —  A  COLORED  PLAYMATE.  —  A  KIND  COLORED 
WOMAN. 

I  WAS  born  in  Boston,  Massachusetts,  on  the  twelfth 
day  of  September,  1797. 

My  father  was  Joseph  —  widely  known  as  Col. 
Joseph  —  May,  who  was  the  son  of  Samuel  May  of  Bos 
ton,  by  his  second  wife  Abigail  Williams  of  Koxbury.1 

1  Joseph  May  was  born  in  Boston,  1760,  and  died  there,  1841,  at 
the  age  of  eighty-one.  In  his  youth,  the  family  were  members  of  the 
Hollis  Street  Church  and  Society;  but,  owing  to  dissatisfaction 
with  the  ministry  of  Dr.  Mather  Byles,  —  or,  more  likely,  with  his 
political  attitude, — they  ceased  attendance  therefor  a  season,  and 
joined  themselves  to  the  Old  South  congregation,  where  Joseph, 
who  to  his  latest  day  was  a  good  singer  and  especially  fond  of 
sacred  music,  sang  in  the  choir  at  the  early  age  of  twelve  years. 
When  the  Old  South  people  were  driven  from  their  house  of 
worship  by  the  British  troops  stationed  in  Boston,  they  met, 
for  about  five  years,  at  King's  Chapel,  the  use  of  which  was 
granted  to  them.  On  their  return  to  their  own  house  in  1783,  Mr. 
May,  then  in  his  twenty-third  year,  preferred  to  remain  at  the 
Chapel,  of  which  church  he  continued  an  active  and  devoted  mein- 

1  A 


2  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

My  mother  was  Dorothy  Sewall,  daughter  of  Samuel 
Sewall  of  Boston,  by  his  wife  Elizabeth  Quincy,  niece 

ber  and  officer  (one  of  the  wardens)  during  his  life.  In  1785  he 
was  one  of  the  twenty  who  voted  to  make  those  alterations  in  the 
Liturgy  which  separated  King's  Chapel  from  the  Trinitarian 
communion  and  from  the  Episcopal  Church;  and  in  1787  he  was 
one  of  the  small  but  resolved  congregation  who  ordained  Dr.  James 
Freeman  by  their  own  authority  to  be  their  minister,  —  a  relation 
which  continued  upwards  of  forty  years  with  uninterrupted  respect 
and  benefit.*  His  later  pastor,  Dr.  Greenwood,  and  his  life-long 
associate  and  friend,  William  Minot,  Esq.,  have  both  spoken  in 
published  notices  of  his  character  and  worth.  "  He  considered  it," 
they  say,  "most  unworthy  of  a  rational  and  moral  being  to  seek 
after  riches  as  the  chief  good.  .  .  .  His  integrity  has  never  been 
questioned.  Important  trusts  were  confided  to  him,  and  held  until 
advancing  age  warned  him  to  resign  them.  .  .  .  He  might  be  traced 
through  every  quarter  of  the  city  by  the  footprints  of  his  benefac 
tions.  .  .  .  His  piety  was  practical,  his  religion  was  life-religion. 
His  belief  in  the  sure  mercies  of  God  and  promises  of  the  Saviour 
was  as  firm  and  deeply  rooted  as  the  mountains.  His  faith  in  a 
future  and  better  life  was  as  sight.  It  was  not  his  lot  to  influence 
the  destinies  of  whole  communities  ;  but,  in  the  duties  of  a  peace 
maker,  in  reforming  guilt,  in  relieving  suffering,  in  protecting  the 
orphan,  and  in  raising  weakness  from  despondency,  he  was  actively 
engaged  during  his  whole  life.  ...  He  proved  that  wealth  and 
fashion  are  not  essential  to  the  highest  respectability  ;  and  hia 
friends  will  agree  that  they  have  rarely  known  his  superior  in  vir 
tue  or  wisdom."  He  was  of  a  continually  cheerful  spirit,  and  of 
unusual  social  gifts ;  an  easy  and  witty  talker,  with  a  fine  sense 
of  humor  and  a  fund  of  personal  anecdotes  and  illustrative  stories, 
which  he  told  with  spirit,  and  always  to  the  delight  of  listeners. 
He  was  a  great  reader,  but  not  a  miscellaneous  one;  having  for 
his  favorite  authors  the  best  English  historians,  such  poets  as  Pope 
and  Addison,  and  the  theologians  of  most  advanced  thought,— 
Priestley  especially. 

On  his  mother's  side,  S.  J.  May  was  related  to  the  Sewalls  and 

*  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Joseph  May,  Esq.    By  F.  W.  P.  Greenwood, 
D.D.    Boston,  1841. 


CHILDHOOD.  3 

of  Josiah  Quincy  of  Revolutionary  memory,  and 
sister  of  Dorothy,  the  wife  of  John  Hancock,  for  whom 
my  mother  was  named. 

Quincys, — families  whose  private  worth  and  public  eminence  are 
well  known,  not  in  New  England  only,  but  far  beyond  its  bounds. 
His  great-grandfather  was  Rev.  Dr.  Joseph  Sewall,  of  the  Old 
South  Church  (born  1688,  died  1769).  His  direct  ancestor  (the 
father  of  Rev.  Dr.  Sewall)  was  Chief  Justice  Samuel  Sewall  (born 
in  England,  1652,  died,  Boston,  1730).  He  it  was,  who,  having  in 
middle  life  participated  (as  a  junior  judge)  in  the  trial  and  condem 
nation  to  death,  at  Salem,  of  many  persons  accused  of  witchcraft, 
afterwards  strove  in  so  many  ways  to  atone  for  that  early  wrong. 
"  He  observed  annually,  in  private,  a  day  of  humiliation  and 
prayer,  during  the  remainder  of  his  life,  to  keep  fresh  in  his  mind 
a  sense  of  repentance  and  sorrow  for  the  part  he  bore  in  those 
trials.  On  the  day  of  the  generalfast,  he  rose  in  the  place  where 
he  was  accustomed  to  worship,  —  the  Old  South,  in  Boston,  — and, 
in  the  presence  of  the  great  assembly,  handed  up  to  the  pulpit  a 
written  confession,  acknowledging  the  error  into  which  he  had 
been  led,  praying  for  the  forgiveness  of  God  and  his  people,  and 
concluding  with  a  request  to  all  the  congregation  to  unite  with  him 
in  devout  supplication,  that  it  might  not  bring  down  the  displeas 
ure  of  the  Most  High  upon  his  country,  his  family,  or  himself.  He 
remained  standing  during  the  public  reading  of  the  paper.  This 
was  an  act  of  true  manliness  and  dignity  of  soul."  *  Whittier  has 
commemorated  in  verse  the  "  sad  and  touching  tale  " 

"  Of  the  fast  which  the  good  man  life-long  kept 
With  a  haunting  sorrow  that  never  slept," 

a. id  of  his  deep  and  yearning  desire,  for  his  country  as  well  as 

himself, 

"  That  the  sin  of  his  ignorance,  sorely  rued. 
Might  be  washed  away  in  the  mingled  flood 
Of  his  human  sorrow  and  Christ's  dear  blood! " 

Those  who  knew  Samuel  Joseph  May  will  recognize,  in  these 
brief  portraits  of  his  ancestry,  traits  which  had  strong  resemblances 
in  him,  and  will  see,  as  the  common  phrase  is,  that  he  came  honestly 

*  Uphain's  History  of  Witchcraft,  vol.  ii.  p.  442. 


4  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

My  name  was  to  have  been  James  Freeman,  after 
the  late  Dr.  Freeman,  minister  of  King's  Chapel,  Bos 
ton,  my  fathers  pastor  and  very  intimate  friend.  But, 
although  my  parents  had  lost  two  sons  named  Samuel 
Joseph,  the  second  dying  the  week  after  my  birth,  yet 
the  name  was  so  comprehensive  of  the  family  names 
both  on  my  father's  and  my  mother's  side,  that  they 
concluded  to  confer  it  upon  me.  Samuel  was  the  name 
of  my  father's  only  brother,  and  of  his  father.  It  was 
also  the  name  of  my  mother's  oldest  brother,  the  late 
Chief  Justice  of  Massachusetts,  Hon.  Samuel  Sewall ; 
of  their  father,  and  of  their  great-grandfather,  who  was 
the  Chief  Justice  in  the  time  of  the  Salem  witchcraft, 
and  was  among  the  first  to  suspect,  and  afterwards  to 
expose,  the  delusion.  Joseph  was  the  name  of  my 
father,  and  of  his  mother's  father,  and  her  favorite 
brother.  It  was  also  the  name  of  my  mother's  second 
brother,  the  late  Joseph  Sewall  of  Boston ;  and  of  their 
venerated  grandfather,  Dr.  Joseph  Sewall  of  the  Old 
South  Church,  in  whose  family  my  mother  lived  a 
number  of  years. 

Thus  denominated,  I  started  upon  the  journey  of 
life,  in  a  very  frail  body,  which  so  continued  until  my 
twelfth  or  fourteenth  year.  I  was  a  very  puny  boy. 
The  joys  and  sorrows  of  my  childhood  were,  I  suppose, 
very  similar  to  those  of  other  boys.  But  there  was  one 

by  his  genial  and  cheerful  nature ;  by  his  freedom  from  c(  nceal- 
ment  and  pretence ;  by  Ids  promptness  to  avow  his  convictions , 
by  his  courage  to  stand  for  the  right;  and  by  his  sympathy  with 
all  forms  and  cases  of  human  suffering  and  wrong.  S.  M. 


CHILDHOOD.  O 

great  grief  that  probably  made  the  deepest  religious 
impression  that  my  soul  ever  received. 

I  had  a  brother,  Edward,  two  years  older  than 
myself.  He  was  a  fair-haired  boy,  with  blue  eyes, 
bright,  playful,  affectionate,  and  particularly  fond  of 
me.  We  slept  together,  we  ate  together;  and  he 
taught  me  all  the  sports  I  was  old  enough  to  take  part 
in.  He  had  recently  commenced  going  to  school,  and 
I  every  day  awaited  his  return,  in  the  assurance  that 
he  would  bring  me  something  to  gratify  or  do  some 
thing  to  amuse  me.  One  day,  when  he  was  six  years 
and  eight  months  old,  he  came  home  at  early  noon, 
full  of  glee,  and  summoned  me  to  the  yard  to  partake 
of  his  sport.  He  climbed  the  fence  against  the  barn, 
pretending  to  sweep  chimney ;  and,  when  the  imagi 
nary  work  was  done,  he  attempted  to  get  down  by 
resting  his  weight  upon  the  slender  post  of  a  chair, 
the  top  of  which  was  broken  off.  The  post  gave  way, 
and  its  splintered  point  penetrated  his  body,  several 
inches,  under  his  arm.  Screams  from  the  servants, 
who  were  near  by,  brought  our  fond  mother  to  the 
spot.  She,  not  knowing  what  had  happened,  supposed 
he  had  fainted  or  been  stunned  by  a  blow,  and  ordered 
a  warm  bath.  But  on  raising  his  arm  to  remove  his 
clothes,  blood  gushed  out  and  revealed  the  deadly 
wound.  She  fainted  on  the  floor  by  his  side.  The 
servants  ran  for  some  physician;  neighbors  came  in 
offering  assistance ;  all  was  confusion  and  dismay.  My 
father  and  the  doctor  arrived  as  soon  as  possible.  But 
the  dear,  beautiful  boy  was  dead.  The  agony  of  my 


6  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

parents,  the  crying  of  my  elder  brother  and  sisters, 
assured  me  that  something  dreadful  had  happened  ;  and 
there  my  beloved  Edward  was,  eyes  shut,  body  cold, 
giving  no  replies  to  the  tender  things  that  were  said  to 
him,  taking  no  notice  of  all  that  was  being  done  to 
him  or  about  him.  I  gave  myself  up  to  a  passion  of 
grief,  knowing  not  what  it  was,  —  but  that  some 
strange,  awful  change  had  come  over  him.  Then  they 
put  grave-clothes  upon  him,  and  laid  him  upon  the 
mattress  in  the  best  chamber,  and  straightened  out  his 
limbs,  and  folded  his  beautiful  hands  upon  his  breast, 
and  covered  him  only  with  the  clean,  cold,  white  sheet. 
I  saw  it  all,  —  for  they  could  not  keep  me  away,  —  and 
when  father  and  mother  and  the  kind  assisting  friends 
had  darkened  the  room,  and  were  about  to  withdraw, 
I  besought  them  to  let  me  lie  down  with  Edward.  My 
importunity  was  so  earnest,  so  passionate,  that  my 
parents  were  almost  afraid,  and  quite  too  tender,  to 
withstand  it.  When  left  alone  with  him,  or  rather  it, 
I  well  remember  how  I  kissed  his  cold  cheek  and  lips, 
pulled  open  his  eyelids,  begged  him  to  speak  to  me, 
and  cried  myself  to  sleep  because  he  would  not. 

At  tea-time  I  was  carried  to  the  table;  but  the 
Weeping  of  all  about  me,  added  to  my  own  dismay, 
destroyed  my  appetite.  I  ate  but  little,  and  only 
asked  that  I  might  be  permitted  to  go  back  to  the 
chamber  and  lie  by  the  side  of  Edward.  My  request 
was  granted ;  and  there  I  lay,  until  my  grief  was  for 
gotten  again  in  sleep,  when  I  must  have  been  removed, 
for  I  found  myself  next  morning  in  the  bed  where  1 


CHILDHOOD.  t 

had  usually  slept  with  my  brother,  in  my  mother's 
chamber.  But  I  hurried  back  to  the  corpse  of  Edward ; 
and  kept  with  it  almost  all  the  time  until  I  was  taken 
from  it  forever.  I  saw  my  father  put  the  body  into 
the  coffin,  in  order,  as  he  told  me,  that  it  might  be  laid 
away  in  the  ground,  and  then  we  should  see  Edward 
no  more.  But  he  and  my  mother,  and  my  brother 
and  sisters,  continually  assured  me  that  Edward  was 
still  living,  —  that  he  had  become  an  angel,  and  had 
gone  to  heaven,  to  dwell  with  the  good  and  the  happy 
in  the  presence  of  God  and  Christ. 

Two  days  after  the  death,  the  house  was  filled  with 
weeping  relatives  and  friends,  with  whom  Edward  had 
been  a  particular  favorite.  Our  good  minister  read  the 
burial  service.  I  could  not  understand  it ;  but  it  was 
solemn,  impressive,  and  I  listened  with  awe. 

Then  we  went  slowly,  in  solemn  procession,  to  the 
burial-ground:  all  was  new,  strange,  awful,  to  me. 
But  when  the  carriages  stopped  at  the  gate,  and  I  saw 
them  taking  the  coffin  off  towards  the  tomb,  I  insisted 
upon  seeing  what  they  were  going  to  do  with  Edward. 
So  my  uncle,  Samuel  May,  took  me  in  his  arms, 
descended  with  me  into  the  family  vault,  and  showed 
me  where  the  sextons  had  put  away  my  brother.  Then 
he  pointed  out  the  little  coffins  in  which  were  the 
remains  of  several  of  my  brothers  and  sisters,  whc  had 
lived  and  died  before  I  was  born,  and  the  coffin  in 
which  my  grandfather  was  buried  eight  years  be 
fore.  My  kind  uncle  opened  one  of  the  coffins  and 
let  me  see  how  decayed  the  body  had  become,  told 


8  LIFE' OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

me  that  Edward's  body  was  going  to  decay  in  like 
manner,  and  at  last  become  like  the  dust  of  the  earth. 
But  he  again  most  tenderly  assured  me  that  Edward 
was  still  living,  that  his  spirit  was  not  in  the  coffin,  that 
it  was  clothed  with  another  more  beautiful,  glorious 
body,  and  that  he  had  gone  to  live  in  heaven  with  God 
and  Christ  and  the  angels.  Then  he  lifted  once  more 
the  lid  of  Edward's  coffin,  and  let  me  kiss  again  and 
for  the  last  time  his  cheek,  his  lips,  his  forehead.  I 
went  home  in  a  sort  of  maze,  crying,  and  asking  ques 
tions  which  the  wisdom  of  man  could  not  answer. 

My  only  brother,  Charles,  then  a  lad  fourteen  or 
fifteen  years  of  age,  tenderly  took  me  up  to  his  cham 
ber,  lay  down  with  me  on  his  bed,  and  tried  to  comfort 
me  and  himself  by  telling  me  all  that  he  imagined  to 
be  true  about  heaven  and  God  and  angels,  and  assur 
ing  me  again,  as  others  had  done,  that  Edward  had 
gone  to  live  in  that  blessed  place,  in  that  happy  and 
glorious  company.  Of  course  I  believed  all  that  such 
dear,  good  friends  told  me. 

When  night  came,  I  was  put  to  bed  in  the  room 
where  I  had  so  often  lain  and  slept  with  Edward. 
Sleep  soon  came  to  relieve  my  young  spirit  wearied 
with  grief  and  strange  excitement.  And  I  dreamt  — 
dreamt  of  Edward.  All  that  had  been  told  me  was 
proved  true  by  what  I  saw  and  felt.  The  ceiling  of 
the  room  opened,  over  where  I  was  lying:  a  bright, 
glorious  light  burst  in,  and  from  the  midst  of  it  came 
down  my  lost  brother,  attended  by  a  troop  of  little 
angels.  They  left  him.  He  lay  by  me  as  he  used  to 


CHILDHOOD.  9 

do,  his  head  on  my  arm  or  my  head  on  his.  He  told 
me  how  happy  he  was,  what  a  beautiful  place  heaven 
was,  how  kind  God  and  Christ  were  to  him,  and  how 
all  the  angels  loved  one  another.  There  he  lay  until 
morning,  when  the  ceiling  above  opened  again,  and 
the  troop  of  angels  came  to  bear  him  back  to  heaven. 
He  kissed  me,  sent  messages  of  love  to  father  and 
mother,  brother  and  sisters,  and  gladly  rejoined  the 
celestial  company. 

So  soon  as  I  awoke  and  was  dressed,  I  hurried  down 
to  tell  the  family  what  I  had  seen,  and  to  give  them 
the  kisses  and  messages  that  dear  Edward  had  sent 
them.  All  day  long  I  thought  and  talked  of  what  I 
had  seen ;  often,  as  I  have  since  been  told,  expressed 
impatience  to  have  night  come;  and  when  it  came, 
went  eagerly  to  bed,  in  the  confident  expectation  that 
the  heavenly  vision  would  be  granted  me  again.  And 
it  was.  The  next  night,  and  for  several  nights  after 
wards,  I  enjoyed  the  felt  presence  of  my  brother, 
and  morning  after  morning  came  down  with  the  same 
or  slightly  varied  messages  of  love.  Until  by  degrees 
my  grief  abated,  the  loss  of  my  brother  was  in  some 
measure  supplied  by  other  playmates,  new  things 
attracted  my  attention  and  occupied  my  thoughts. 
But  I  have  never  forgotten  my  Edward,  and  the  events 
of  his  death  and  burial ;  and  the  scenes  that  I  wit 
nessed,  and  the  heavenly  vision  that  I  had,  are  vivid 
in  my  memory,  although  most  of  my  life  for  several 
years  afterwards  is  very  indistinct. 

I  have  been  thus  particular  in  narrating  this  part  of 
]* 


10  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

my  life,  because  I  believe  it  had  the  greatest  influence 
in  awakening  and  fixing  in  my  soul  the  full  faith  I 
have  in  the  continuance  of  life  after  death.  Indeed,  it 
sometimes  seems  to  me  that  I  do  not  believe  more 
fully  in  the  life  that  now  is  than  in  the  life  that  is  to 
come,  and,  moreover,  that  the  future  existence  com 
mences  immediately  after  the  close  of  the  present. 

In  the  fall  of  1852,  I  received  a  letter  from  Mrs. 
H.  B.  Stowe,  requesting  me  to  inform  her  how  much 
and  how  intimately  I  had  been  acquainted  with  negroes ; 
what  incidents  in  my  life  had  probably  prepared  me  to 
embrace  the  cause  of  the  colored  people  so  early  and 
so  earnestly  as  I  had  done.  Of  course,  her  request 
impelled  me  to  look  back,  with  an  eager,  searching  eye, 
through  the  whole  of  my  life,  especially  the  early  part 
of  it,  when  biases  in  one  direction  or  another  were 
most  easily  taken.  I  was  surprised  at  the  many  things 
which  no  doubt  have  had  some  influence  in  predisposing 
me  to  perceive  and  abhor  the  great  injustice  and  cruelty 
of  our  country  towards  those  whose  only  peculiar 
fault  is  that  they  are  "  guilty  of  a  skin  not  colored  like 
our  own."  Two  of  these  things  I  will  record  here. 

It  has  been  a  benefit  to  me,  through  life,  that  when 
a  little  boy,  from  five  to  seven  years  of  age,  I  attended 
a  Ma'am  school,  kept  by  a  good  old  lady,  —  Mrs.  Wall- 
cut,  —  in  company  with  boys  and  girls  of  various  con 
dition  of  life,  some  from  the  richest  and  others  from 
the  poorer  families  in  the  neighborhood.  I  well 
remember  that  I  sat  upon  the  same  bench,  and  recited 


CHILDHOOD.  H 

in  the  same  class,  with  a  boy  whose  skin  was  as  dark 
as  a  starless  night,  but  whose  spirit  was  as  bright  and 
joyous  as  a  cloudless  noon-day.  He  was  certainly  more 
witty,  if  not  more  wise,  than  any  of  my  school-fellows, 
and  therefore  was  the  favorite  of  us  all.  He  was  as 
good  as  the  best  in  reading,  spelling,  repeating  the 
Catechism,  and  in  counting,  which  was  the  extent  of 
our  literary  exercises;  and  in  all  our  plays  few  were 
his  equals. 

About  the  same  time,  when  six  or  seven  years  of 
age,  I  was  going  on  an  errand  for  my  mother.  A  dog 
sprang  after  me,  I  ran,  often  looking  backward  as  I 
was  going  forward.  I  fell,  struck  my  temple  upon  a 
stone,  and  lay  senseless.  On  recovering  my  conscious 
ness,  I  found  myself  in  the  arms  of  a  large  black 
woman.  As  soon  as  I  opened  my  eyes,  she  said  very 
soothingly,  "  Don't  be  afraid,  little  boy.  I  know  who 
you  are.  I'll  carry  you  to  your  mamma."  On  reach 
ing  home,  —  my  face,  bosom,  and  hand  smeared  with 
the  blood  which  had  flowed  freely  from  the  wound,  — 
the  sight  of  me  filled  the  family  with  alarm.  My 
mother  was  agonized  with  the  fear  that,  like  Edward, 
I  had  met  with  some  fatal  accident.  In  her  concern 
for  me,  she  forgot  every  thing  else.  She  stripped  off 
my  bloody  clothes,  washed  my  face  and  my  hands, 
examined  carefully  the  gash  upon  my  temple,  and 
found  the  injury  to  be  not  so  serious  as  she  feared. 
Then  she  thought  of  the  kind  woman  who  had  picked 
me  up,  and  looked  around  gratefully  to  thank  and  to 
offer  her  some  reward.  But  my  benefactress  had  dis- 


12  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

appeared.  She  remained  long  enough  to  be  satisfied 
that  I  had  not  sustained  much  harm,  and  then  quietly 
withdrew,  not  lingering  to  be  thanked,  or  to  receive 
any  compensation,  as  very  many  poor  white  women 
would  have  done.  Nor  did  she  ever  come  to  the  house 
to  "  get  her  pay."  Nor  could  we  find  out  where  she 
lived,  or  who  she  was,  though  my  mother  made  much 
inquiry,  wishing  to  make  some  return  for  the  good 
deed  she  had  done. 


CHAPTER  II. 

CHILDHOOD   CONCLUDED. 

VISIT  AT  MARBLEHEAD.  —  A  SEVERE  MASTER.  —  THE  JEWS.— 
FIRST  SIN.  —  Loss  OF  EDEN.  —  REV.  DR.  CHANNING.  —  A 
LESSON  OF  TRUE  BENEVOLENCE. 


after  my  recovery  from  this  disaster,  I  was 
sent  to  Marblehead  to  stay  several  months  in  the 
family  of  my  uncle,  Chief  Justice  Sewall.  My  uncle, 
aunt,  and  the  children  were  each  and  all  devoutly  relig 
ious  persons.  Three  of  his  five  sons  —  Samuel,  Edmund, 
Charles  Chauncy  —  became  ministers  of  the  Gospel. 
One  of  the  other  two,  Joseph,  —  who  died  while  in  col 
lege,  —  meant  to  be  a  minister  ;  and  Henry  D.,  who 
was  a  merchant,  —  first  in  Montreal,  afterwards  in  New 
York,  partner  of  Arthur  Tappan,  —  ought  to  have  been 
a  minister.  I  never  knew  children  so  early  and  so 
deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  piety.  I  well  remem 
ber  their  morning  and  their  evening  prayers,  their 
shrinking  horror  of  every  profane  or  obscene  word,  and 
their  practical,  active  charity.  I  gratefully  record  my 
indebtedness  to  them  and  their  pious  parents. 

My  uncle  thought  it  best  for  me  to  attend  school 
with  his  boys.  So  I  went  to  the  Marblehead  Academy, 
then  kept  by  Master  -  .  He  was  a  severe  man,  — 
believed  in  the  rod,  promptly,  and  not  sparingly,  applied. 


14  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

That  was  the  doctrine  of  the  day.  But  to  his  treat 
ment  of  me  I  ascribe  my  early  conversion  to  the  meth 
ods  of  moral  suasion. 

I  was  a  little  boy,  able  to  learn  —  it  was  then  sup 
posed —  only  to  read  and  spell.  Twice  each  half-day, 
I  was  exercised,  live  or  ten  minutes,  in  reading  and 
spelling  lessons.  All  the  rest  of  the  three  hours  I 
was  required,  with  other  little  boys,  to  sit  upright  upon 
a  hard  bench,  doing  nothing  but  thinking  how  irksome 
it  was,  and  wishing  that  I  had  something  to  do.  At 
length,  one  day,  I  set  myself  to  work.  I  got  a  thread 
four  or  five  feet  long,  tied  it  to  a  pin  which  I  bent  into 
a  hook ;  I  tore  up  a  paper  into  small  pieces,  which  I 
rolled  into  forms  that  it  pleased  me  to  regard  as  fishes. 
These  I  scattered  upon  the  floor ;  and  then,  throwing 
down  my  hook,  attempted  to  catch  them  and  draw 
them  in.  I  had  not  captured  more  than  two  or  three, 
when  I  received  several  smart  boxes  upon  my  ears,  and 
heard  from  the  voice  of  my  master  the  sharp  reproof,  -— 
"  You  naughty  boy,  I'll  teach  you  to  behave  better  in 
school  time ! "  He  taught  me  what  he  little  intended  to 
do.  He  taught  me  to  regard  and  fear  him  as  a  harsh, 
cruel  man.  I  felt  (though  I  do  not  suppose  I  clothed 
the  feeling  in  these  words)  that  he  ought  to  have  given 
me  something  to  do,  or  else  let  me  occupy  myself  as 
best  I  could. 

Marblehead  was  then  a  queerer  place  than  it  is  now. 
The  people  were  almost  wholly  engaged  in  the  fish 
eries,  and  in  other  kinds  of  navigation.  A  very  large 


CHILDHOOD   CONCLUDED.  15 

proportion  of  the  men  were  sailors  or  sea-captains  or 
mates,  often  absent  from  home  on  long  voyages ;  so  that 
the  women  were  left  to  take  care  of  the  children,  and 
manage  their  own  affairs.  They  consequently  became 
very  self-sustaining  and  independent;  and  the  feminine 
graces  were  not  much  cultivated.  Then,  being  igno 
rant  and  used  to  frequent  excitements  caused  by  tales  of 
hardship  and  fearful  catastrophes,  they  were  supersti 
tious.  There  were  fortune-tellers,  and  several  weird 
women  amongst  them.  Several  houses  in  the  town 
were  haunted,  and  stories  of  ghostly  apparitions  were 
often  current.  Of  course  these  things  had  some  effect 
upon  the  imaginations  of  my  cousins  and  myself.  We 
dreaded  the  influence  of  the  moon,  and  preferred  to  see 
the  new  one  for  the  first  time  over  the  right  shoulder 
rather  than  the  left.  But  their  parents  and  mine  were 
very  careful  to  assure  us  that  there  were  no  beings,  out 
of  the  body,  who  would  or  could  injure  good  little  boys, 
and  that  we  need  be  afraid  of  nothing  but  sin. 

If  the  children  of  my  day  were  taught,  among  other 
foolish  things,  to  dread,  if  not  despise,  Jews,  a  very 
different  lesson  was  impressed  upon  my  young  heart. 
There  was  but  one  family  of  the  despised  children  of 
the  house  of  Israel  resident  in  Boston,  —  the  family 
of  Moses  Michael  Hays :  a  man  much  respected,  not 
only  on  account  of  his  large  wealth,  but  for  his  many 
personal  virtues  and  the  high  culture  and  great  excel 
lence  of  his  wife,  his  son  Judah,  and  his  daughters,  — 
especially  Catherine  and  Slowey.  His  house,  far  down 


16  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

in  Hanover  Street,  then  one  of  the  fashionable  streets 
of  the  town,  was  the  a<bode  of  hospitality;  and  his 
family  moved  in  what  were  then  the  first  circles  of 
society.  He  and  his  truly  good  wife  were  hospitable, 
not  to  the  rich  alone,  but  also  to  the  poor.  Many  indi 
gent  families  were  fed  pretty  regularly  from  his  table. 
They  would  come  especially  after  his  frequent  dinner 
parties,  and  were  sure  to  be  made  welcome,  not  to  the 
crumbs  only,  but  to  ampler  portions  of  the  food  that 
might  be  left. 

Always,  on  Saturday,  he  expected  a  number  of  friends 
to  dine  with  him.  A  full-length  table  was  always 
spread,  and  loaded  with  the  luxuries  of  the  season ;  and 
he  loved  to  see  it  surrounded  by  a  few  regular  visitors 
and  others  especially  invited.  My  father  was  a  favorite 
guest.  He  was  regarded  by  Mr.  Hays  and  his  whole 
family  as  a  particular  friend,  their  chosen  counsellor  in 
times  of  perplexity,  and  their  comforter  in  the  days  of 
their  affliction.  My  father  seldom  failed  to  dine  at  Mr. 
Hays's  on  Saturday,  and  often  took  me  with  him  ;  for 
he  was  sure  I  should  meet  refined  company  there. 

Both  Uncle  and  Aunt  Hays  (for  so  I  called  them) 
were  fond  of  children,  particularly  of  me ;  and  I  was 
permitted  to  stay  with  them  several  days,  and  even 
weeks,  together.  And  I  can  never  forget,  not  merely 
their  kind,  but  their  conscientious  care  of  me.  I  was 
the  child  of  Christian  parents,  and  they  took  especial 
pains  that  I  should  lose  nothing  of  religious  training  so 
long  as  I  was  permitted  to  abide  with  them.  Every 
night,  I  was  required,  on  going  to  bed,  to  repeat  my 


CHILDHOOD  CONCLUDED.  17 

Christian  hymns  and  prayers  to  them,  or  else  to  an 
excellent  Christian  servant  woman  who  lived  with  them 
many  years.  I  witnessed  their  religious  exercises, — 
their  fastings  and  their  prayers,  —  and  was  made  to  feel 
that  they  worshipped  the  Unseen  Almighty  and  All- 
merciful  One.  Of  course  I  grew  up  without  any  prej  u- 
dice  against  Jews,  —  or  any  other  religionists,  because 
they  did  not  believe  as  my  father  and  my  mother 
believed. 

I  was  accounted  a  good  little  boy,  and  well  remem 
ber  that  I  used  to  love  to  be  so,  and  to  be  so  considered. 
And,  notwithstanding  ill  health,  I  was  a  very  happy, 
joyous  child.  I  had  many  friends,  and  was  rather  a 
favorite  among  them. 

But,  when  I  was  eight  or  nine  years  old,  an  event 
happened  that  expelled  me  from  Eden,  and  made  me 
very  wretched.  I  think  my  recollections  of  it  have 
helped  me  to  understand  and  to  expound,  as  I  do,  the 
account  in  Genesis  of  the  fall  of  our  first  parents. 

I  had  a  sister  Eliza,  a  year  and  a  half  younger  than 
myself,  to  whom  I  was  much  attached.  One  day  I 
saw  at  a  toy-shop  a  doll,  which  I  was  sure  it  would 
delight  her  to  have ;  but  I  possessed  not  money  enough 
to  buy  it.  While  I  was  pondering  in  my  mind  how  I 
should  raise  the  means  to  gratify  her  and  myself,  I 
went  with  my  mother  to  spend  the  afternoon  and  take 
tea  with  an  aunt.  Going  about  the  house  in  search  of 
amusement,  I  chanced  to  find,  in  the  chamber  of  the 
maid-servant,  lying  upon  the  table,  just  the  little  sum 


18  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

of  money  that  I  needed.  The  temptation  was  too 
strong  for  me.  I  took  it,  and  got  away  from  the  house 
without  detection.  The  next  day,  after  school,  I  ran 
to  the  toy-shop,  purchased  the  doll  and  carried  it  home, 
and  gave  it,  somewhat  clandestinely,  to  my  sister.  Of 
course  it  soon  became  known  throughout  the  house 
that  Eliza  had  a  new  doll,  and  that  it  was  given  to  her 
by  her  loving  brother.  But  then,  alas!  the  question 
arose,  how  did  he  obtain  it  ?  It  was  bought  at  Mrs. 

shop.     But  where  did  he  get  money  enough  to 

pay  for  it  ?  I  was  able  to  answer  the  first  inquirers  so 
as  to  satisfy  them  for  the  moment.  I  soon  found 
myself  involved  in  the  necessity  of  inventing  other 
falsehoods  to  conceal  the  first.  The  predicament  was 
a  new  one  to  me.  My  perplexity  was  most  distressing. 
I  avoided  as  much  as  possible  the  members  of  the 
family.  I  especially  feared  the  faces  of  my  parents. 
Their  eyes  seemed  to  penetrate  my  bosom  and  read 
the  secret.  When  alone,  I  was  not  at  ease ;  for  I  heard 
a  voice  saying,  "  Thief,  you  stole  it."  Nothing  amused 
me,  nothing  beguiled  me  of  myself.  Even  music,  of 
which  I  was  very  fond,  and  which  my  older  sisters 
made  of  the  sweetest  kind,  failed  to  quiet  my  troubled 
spirit.  Every  thing  about  me  was  changed.  Our 
pleasant  little  parlor  was  dreary,  and  home  a  dreadful 
place. 

I  endured  my  misery  but  a  day  or  two.  Then  I 
went  to  my  parents  and  confessed  my  crime,  telling 
them  the  whole  truth.  They  were  astonished  and 
grieved,  but  they  commiserated  me  in  my  sorrow  and 


CHILDHOOD  CONCLUDED.  19 

shame  and  soothed  me  by  their  compassion,  while  they 
exposed  fully  the  heinous  nature  of  the  crime  I  had 
committed,  and  showed  me  to  what  horrible  conse 
quences  here  and  hereafter  a  thievish  disposition  would 
lead. 

They  gave  me  money  enough,  and  required  me  to 
go  to  the  servant-maid  from  whom  I  had  stolen  it,  con 
fess  to  her  my  fault,  repay  what  I  had  taken  from  her, 
and  ask  her  forgiveness.  I  did  it  all  willingly,  gladly, 
and  was  greatly  relieved.  The  woman  treated  me 
kindly,  and  only  admonished  me  that  I  should  come 
to  a  dreadful  end,  if  I  should  continue  to  be  a  thief; 
but  graciously  expressed  the  belief  that  I  should 
never  steal  again.  The  recollection  of  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  that  I  had  in  those  days  is  almost  as 
vivid  as  the  consciousness  of  them  was  at  the  time. 
I  shall  never  forget  how  guilt  darkened  the  day, 
made  the  night  dismal,  changed  the  aspect  of  my 
home,  and  gave  to  the  voices  of  my  parents  a  tone 
at  which  I  started  in  affright.  I  was  driven  out  of 
Eden. 

One  of  the  greatest  advantages  I  have  enjoyed  in  life 
has  been  my  acquaintance  with  Rev.  Dr.  Channing. 
It  commenced  at  an  early  day,  when  I  was  quite  a 
small  boy,  and  continued  until  his  decease.  He  lived 
in  Federal  Street,  not  far  from  my  father's  house,  so 
that  I  could  go  alone  to  his  study  when  I  was  not 
more  than  six  or  seven  years  of  age.  He  would  talk 
most  kindly  to  me,  and  instruct  me  by  pictures  of 


20  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

objects  in  nature  and  art.  I  can  distinctly  remember 
only  one  of  my  visits  to  him  at  that  time.  As  his 
treatment  of  me  then  made  a  salutary  impression  upon 
my  mind  as  well  as  memory,  I  deem  it  worthy  of 
preservation. 

I  had  tarried  with  him  as  long  as  his  engagements 
would  permit  me  to  stay.  He  had  entertained  and 
instructed  me  by  some  pictures,  in  which  I  was  much 
interested;  and,  among  his  lessons,  he  had,  as  usual, 
pressed  upon  me  the  duty  of  kindness  to  the  poor  and 
unhappy,  assuring  me  that  I  should  always  enjoy,  all 
the  more,  the  good  things  which  my  heavenly  Father 
accorded  to  my  lot  in  life,  if  I  shared  them  with  those 
who  were  less  fortunate.  He  told  me  that  he  could 
not  allow  me  to  tarry  with  him  any  longer  at  that 
time,  as  he  was  then  very  busy.  So  he  bade  me  good- 
by,  giving  me,  at  the  moment,  three  nice  cakes,  one 
for  myself,  and  one  for  each  of  my  younger  sisters. 
On  my  way  home  I  met  a  poor,  ragged  boy,  about  my 
own  size.  He  looked  very  wishfully  at  the  sweet 
things  I  was  carrying  in  my  hands ;  perhaps  he  asked 
me  for  one  of  them.  Anyhow,  I  gave  him  one,  and 
ran  back  to  tell  Mr.  Channing  how  promptly  I  had  fol 
lowed  his  instructions,  not  doubting  that  he  would 
give  me  another  cake  to  supply  the  place  of  that  which 
I  had  bestowed  upon  the  poor  boy,  and  to  reward  me 
for  my  charitableness.  To  my  surprise,  then,  he  merely 
commended  very  highly  what  I  had  done,  telling  me 
it  was  much  better  for  me  that  I  had  given  the  sweet 
meat  to  the  little  beggar,  who  probably  seldom,  if  ever, 


CHILDHOOD   CONCLUDED. 


21 


got  any  thing  so  nice  to  eat,  whereas  I  had  plenty  of 
pleasant  food  every  day ;  and  sent  me  off  again  with 
only  the  cakes  for  my  sisters.  There  was  a  heavenly 
wisdom  in  his  dealing  with  me  at  that  time  which  I 
have  often  thought  of  since,  and  for  which  I  have 
always  been  grateful. 


^ 

UNIVERSITY] 

£V, 


CHAPTER    III. 

SCHOOL  DAYS. 

MA'AM  SCHOOLS. —  MR.  CUMMINGS. —  MR.  DANIEL  ADAMS.— 
REV.  DR.  RICHMOND,  AT  STOUGHTON.  —  FIRST  AND  ONLY 
PUNISHMENT.  —  TAUGHT  TO  BE  CAREFUL. 

"JV/TY  generous  father,  who  thought  the  best  patri- 
•**•*•  mony  he  could  give  to  his  children  was  a  good 
education,  spared  no  expense  that  was  needful  to  insure 
us  the  best  instruction.  So  we  were  sent  to  the  pri 
vate  schools  in  Boston  that  enjoyed  the  highest  repu 
tation.  The  public  schools  of  that  day,  although  good, 
were  not  what  they  now  are  and  have  been  since  the 
days  of  Horace  Mann. 

From  five  to  eight  years  of  age,  I  attended  what 
were  then  called  Ma'am  schools,  —  the  first  one  kept 
in  Milk  Street  by  a  Mrs.  Cazeneau  and  her  daughter, 
the  second  in  High  Street,  kept  by  Mrs.  Wallcut  and 
her  daughter.  My  only  recollection  of  the  former 
(excepting  the  kind  looks  of  the  school-mistress  and 
the  daily  routine  of  exercises)  is  the  temporary  loss  of 
my  youngest  sister,  Abby,  —  now  Mrs.  A.  B.  Alcott,  — 
then  about  four  years  of  age.  Eliza  and  I  had  per 
suaded  our  mother  to  allow  us  to  take  our  darling  little 
sister  along  with  us  to  school.  We  had  led  her  there 
and  home  again  safely  for  several  days,  and  she  had 


SCHOOL  DAYS.  23 

become  so  eager  .to  accompany  us  that  she  became 
quite  a  regular  attendant.  At  length,  it  was  regarded 
as  a  matter  of  course  that  she  was  to  go  to  school  as 
we  did.  We  were  less  anxious  about  her,  less  watch 
ful  of  her,  feeling  less  our  responsibility  for  her  safety. 
One  afternoon,  as  we  were  returning  home  with  a 
party  of  our  fellows  and  playing  by  the  way,  Abby 
slipped  off  into  a  side  street,  and  went  to  find  some 
thing  curious  of  which  she  had  heard,  she  knew  not 
what  nor  where.  So  soon  as  we  missed  her,  we  com 
menced  a  search,  but  it  was  in  a  direction  different 
from  that  which  she  had  taken.  We  became  alarmed, 
and  ran  home  to  report  that  she  was  lost.  Of  courss 
the  whole  family  were  put  in  requisition  to  find  the 
wanderer,  and  we  were  left  at  home  alone  to  bemoan 
our  carelessness,  and  indulge  our  fears  for  the  fate  of 
our  little  sister.  First  one,  then  another,  returned 
from  a  fruitless  search,  only  to  aggravate  our  alarm, 
and  make  more  glaring  the  sin  of  our  unfaithfulness  to 
the  trust  committed  to  us.  Not  until  late  in  the  even 
ing  was  our  anxiety  relieved,  when  a  young  man,  a 
cousin,  came  leading  her  in,  weary  and  frightened, 
from  a  distant  part  of  the  city,  where  he  had  found 
her. 

The  most  distinct  recollection  that  I  have  of  Ma'am 
Wallcut's  school,  excepting  of  the  black  boy  already 
mentioned,  is  of  a  conversation  that  I  had  with  my 
little  school-fellows  about  heaven,  one  noon  when  we 
were  kept  in  the  school-room  during  the  intermission 
because  it  rained.  Our  reading-lesson  that  forenoon 


24 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


had  been  in  the  New  Testament,  something  about 
heaven  and  its  joys.  I  do  not  remember  what  partic 
ular  passage  it  was.  The  question  was  raised  by  some 
one  of  the  children,  in  what  the  happiness  of  heaven 
consisted.  Various  conjectures  were  offered:  I  do  not 
remember  what  they  were,  excepting  two.  One  little 
girl  said  she  thought  we  should  have  plenty  of  burnt 
almonds  there.  I  told  them,  I  expected  we  should  sit 
up  at  table  and  drink  coffee.  This  low  conception 
was  undoubtedly  suggested  by  the  fact  that  I,  with  my 
sister  Eliza,  was  required  to  stand  at  the  breakfast- 
table  and  eat  bread  and  milk,  while  my  parents  and 
older  sisters  and  brother  sat  at  table  and  regaled  them 
selves  upon  coffee  and  toast. 

The  first  man's  school  that  I  went  to  was  kept  by- 
Mr.  Cummings,  the  author  of  the  Geography  which  for 
a  number  of  years  enjoyed  a  high  reputation.  He  was 
considered  a  teacher  of  superior  skill,  and  for  a  number 
of  years  his  school  was  regarded  as  the  best  in  Boston. 
It  was  kept  in  a  pleasant,  wooden  building  situated  in 
a  yard  in  the  rear  of  the  Federal  Street  (Dr.  Chan- 
ning's)  Church,  at  the  corner  of  Berry  Street.  Unfor 
tunately  for  me,  Mr.  Cummings  resigned  his  place  soon 
after  I  had  become  his  pupil.  Mr.  Lanceolet  Lyon 
succeeded  him,  —  an  inferior,  though  still  a  successful 
teacher,  who  enjoyed  a  good  reputation  for  fifteen  or 
twenty  years.  I  attended  his  school  until  I  was  ten 
or  eleven  years  of  age,  and  was  then  put  to  Mr.  Daniel 
Adams,  the  author  of  the  well-known  Arithmetic,  who 
had  come  to  the  city  with  considerable  renown,  and 


SCHOOL  DAYS.  25 

occupied  rooms  in  Court  Street.  There  I  commenced 
the  study  of  Latin ;  but  made  very  little  progress  in 
that  or  any  other  branch  of  learning,  for  I  was  fre 
quently  interrupted  by  serious  sicknesses,  and  more 
often  by  severe  headaches.  The  rooms  which  we 
occupied  were  low ;  no  attention  was  paid  to  ventila 
tion,  and  the  air  became  so  impure  that  almost  every 
day  I  was  disabled  by  nausea,  headache,  or  lassitude. 

My  health  was  so  poor  that  it  was  thought  indis 
pensably  necessary  that  I  should  go  into  the  country  to 
live.  So  I  was  sent  to  Stoughton  to  reside  in  the  fam 
ily  of  Rev.  Edward  Richmond,  afterwards  D.D.  He 
was  a  good  and  a  sensible  man,  but  not  much  of  a 
teacher.  He  had  only  four  or  six  pupils,  —  no  two  pur 
suing  precisely  the  same  studies.  There  was  no  excite 
ment  in  the  school,  but  dulness  reigned  there.  It  was 
not  intended  that  I  should  be  kept  very  closely  at  my 
books.  Health,  rather  than  learning,  was  the  object  of 
my  rustication.  So  I  was  allowed  to  keep  out,  much  of 
the  time,  in  the  open  air :  to  range  the  fields,  ride  horse 
to  plough,  drive  the  cows  to  and  from  the  pasture,  and 
work  in  my  garden.  But  I  was  very  homesick,  though 
my  health  had  improved  in  other  respects. 

At  the  expiration  of  about  a  year,  I  was  taken  home 
again,  and  put  to  school  to  Mr.  Elisha  Clap,  who  kept 
in  a  large  room  under  the  First  Church  in  Chauncy 
Place.  He  was  accounted  a  very  thorough  scholar,  and 
a  strict  disciplinarian,  severe  withal.  He  had  been  for 
a  number  of  years  Principal  of  the  Academy  at  Sand 
wich;  and  had  corne  to  Boston  to  take  charge  of  a 
2 


26  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

select  school  of  only  twenty-five  boys,  for  whose  instruc 
tion  he  was  to  be  paid  one  hundred  dollars  a  year  for 
each.  This  was  a  higher  sum  than  had  ever  been  paid 
a  teacher  in  that  city  before.  Chief  Justice  Parsons, 
Judge  Parker,  Harrison  Gray  Otis,  Samuel  Eliot,  Wil 
liam  Gray,  et  id  omne  genus,  were  his  patrons.  It  was 
a  good  school,  though  his  methods  of  teaching  would 
now  be  considered  obsolete,  and  his  plans  of  discipline 
not  highly  esteemed.  Under  his  instruction  I  fitted  for 
college,  and  was  entered  without  conditions,  after  the 
Commencement  vacation,  September,  1813,  when  just 
sixteen  years  old.  Before  I  remove  to  Cambridge,  I  will 
narrate  the  occurrence  which  alone  I  had  in  view  when  I 
commenced  this  chapter,  and  which  suggested  its  title. 

Throughout  all  my  school-days,  I  had  endeavored  to 
be  a  good  boy ;  partly  because  I  dreaded  punishment, 
and  partly  because  I  loved  to  be  accounted  a  good  boy 
and  carry  home  to  my  parents  every  week  a  note  of 
commendation. 

Mr.  Clap  was  very  strict,  and  our  parents  liked  him 
all  the  better  for  that.  He  not  only  allowed  no  whis 
pering  in  study  hours,  no  communications  by  letter  or 
by  signs,  but  he  allowed  no  unnecessary  noises,  when 
in  our  desks,  or  while  going  to  or  from  the  place  of 
recitation,  or  coming  in  or  going  out  of  the  school-room. 
Letting  fall  a  book  or  slate,  or  any  thing  that  could  be 
heard  on  striking  the  floor,  he  accounted  an  offence,  and 
forbade  it  by  special  regulation.  Every  one  who  met 
with  that  accident  was  to  be  punished  by  one  blow 
with  a  ferule  upon  his  hand.  Few  escaped 


SCHOOL  DAYS.  27 

Four  or  five  months  before  I  left  the  school  for  col 
lege, —  when  intent  upon  completing  well  my  prepara 
tion,  —  I  was  engaged  one  day  in  a  Latin  recitation 
with  my  class,  standing  against  the  front  row  of  desks, 
upon  which  we  were  permitted  to  lay  our  grammars,  to 
be  used  if  needed.  A  question  about  the  construction 
of  a  sentence  arose  between  a  classmate  and  myself. 
It  was  a  nice  point.  The  teacher  was  pleased,  and 
allowed,  as  he  often  did,  some  brief  debate  between  us. 
In  order  to  justify  the  construction  upon  which  I 
insisted,  I  turned  hastily  round  to  get  my  grammar,  in 
which  I  knew  I  should  find  a  note  exactly  to  my  pur 
pose.  Unluckily,  I  had  laid  the  book  upon  the  desk 
just  so,  that,  in  turning,  my  elbow  hit  it  and  knocked 
it  off.  It  fell  to  the  floor,  with  not  a  little  noise.  A 
cloud  settled  upon  the  brow  of  the  master.  I  faintly 
hoped  that  the  punishment  would  be  remitted  in  con 
sideration  of  my  exemplary  conduct  throughout  the 
nearly  three  years  that  I  had  been  his  pupil.  But,  alas ! 
he  was  inexorable.  The  punishment  was  inflicted  in 
presence  of  the  whole  school.  I  cared  not  for  the  pain 
it  gave  me ;  but  the  sense  of  injustice  and  of  disgrace 
wounded  me  to  the  quick. 

I  rushed  home,  and  unburthened  my  full  heart  to  my 
affectionate  mother.  She  accepted  at  once  my  view  of 
the  case.  We  came  to  the  conclusion  that  I  ought  not 
to  be  allowed  to  return  to  the  school,  unless  Mr.  Clap 
would  make  ample  amends.  Soon  after,  my  father 
came  in  to  dinner.  He  perceived  the  perturbation,  and 
at  once  informed  of  the  cause,  —  the  outrage  that 


28  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

had  been  committed  upon  me.  To  our  astonishment, 
he  did  not  seem  to  catch  the  flame  of  our  indignation. 
After  a  few  minutes,  he  said,  tenderly,  but  very  firmly : 
"You  were  careless,  my  son.  Carelessness  is  not  a 
venial  offence :  it  often  is  the  cause  of  a  great  deal  of 
eviL  If  your  teacher  will  so  train  you  that  you  will 
never  be  careless,  he  will  do  that  which  will  be  a  great 
blessing  to  you  through  the  whole  of  your  life.  By  all 
means  go  to  school  this  afternoon,  and  hereafter  as 
usual."  I  obeyed  him;  for  happily  I  belonged  to  a 
generation  of  which  the  children  were  pretty  generally 
taught  obedience  to  their  parents.  I  went  reluctantly 
to  school,  concealing,  as  best  I  could,  my  grief  and  my 
resentment.  The  kindness  of  the  master's  manner 
assured  me  that  he  regretted  the  occurrence  almost  as 
much  as  I  did. 

In  justice  to  my  father,  I  should  state  that,  several 
years  afterwards,  he  recurred  to  this  event  in  my 
life ;  assured  me  that  at  the  time  of  it  he  deeply  sym 
pathized  in  my  and  my  mother's  feeling.  He  thought 
the  rule  a  severe  one  and  that  its  operation  in  my 
case  was  particularly  hard.  "But,"  said  he,  "we  all 
have  to  endure  hardness  in  this  life,  and  sometimes  to 
submit  to  injustice ;  and  I  thought  you  might  as  well 
begin  then  to  learn  the  lesson.  Besides,  it  would  have 
been  very  unwise  to  take  you  away  from  so  good  an 
instructor,  just  as  you  were  about  to  complete  your 
preparation  for  college."  , 


CHAPTER  IV. 

COLLEGE    LIFE. 

UNSATISFACTORY  FRESHMAN  YEAR.  —  BOWDOIN  PRIZE.  —SOPH 
OMORE  YEAR.  —  JUNIOR  YEAR.  —  RESOLVES  TO  BECOME  A 
MINISTER.  —  DANIEL  WEBSTER  AND  THE  POND  LILIES. — 
GEORGE  B.  EMERSON. 

ALTHOUGH,  as  I  soon  found,  I  had  not  been 
thoroughly  well  prepared,  I  entered  College 
without  conditions,  in  September,  1813.  Our  country 
was  then  at  war  with  England.  Quite  a  number  of 
young  men,  therefore,  came  to  Cambridge,  who  were 
more  inclined  to  business  than  to  learning.  The  class 
was  at  first  unusually  large,  the  largest  that  had  then 
ever  entered  the  University.  There  were  in  the  begin 
ning  eighty-seven  of  us.  Soon  after  the  return  of 
peace,  in  1815,  several  left  College,  and  went  into 
merchandise;  others  left  for  other  reasons,  and  three 
died.  So  that  only  sixty-seven  were  graduated,  at  the 
Commencement  in  1817.  Of  my  classmates,  a  number 
have  since  become  distinguished  men,  as  may  be  seen 
by  recurring  to  the  Catalogue ;  and  we  considered  our 
selves,  as  a  whole,  a  superior  set  of  fellows.  At  a 
chance  meeting  of  the  Alumni  in  1819  or  1820,  a  dis 
pute  arose  as  to  the  comparative  excellence  of  our 
several  classes.  William  H.  Gardner,  of  the  class  of 
1816,  settled  the  question  by  insisting  that  his  was  not 


30  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

only  the  best  class  that  ever  had  been  in  College,  but 
the  best  that  was  ever  expected. 

My  Freshman  year  was,  on  the  whole,  an  unsuccess 
ful  and  a  very  unhappy  one.  Unfortunately  I  pre 
sumed  to  prejudge  some  of  the  subjects  prescribed  in 
the  college  course,  and  to  decide  that  they  would 
never  be  of  any  use  to  me,  and  that  I  could  spend  some 
of  my  time  to  better  purpose,  than  in  preparing  myself 
very  thoroughly  to  recite  some  of  the  lessons  given  us. 
This  is  the  mistake  which  many  foolish  young  men 
make.  They  do  not  consider  that  the  course  of  college 
studies  is  devised  by  learned  and  wise  men,  so  as  best 
to  develop  the  various  faculties  of  the  mind  and  heart ; 
and  that  no  young  man  can  know,  until  he  shall 
have  completed  the  course,  what  parts  of  it  have  been, 
or  are  likely  to  be,  most  useful  to  him.  I  accomplished 
very  little  during  the  first  eight  months  of  my  college 
life :  I  fell  to  a  very  low  place  in  my  class,  and  became 
displeased  with  myself,  and  really  miserable. 

In  February  or  March,  1814,  the  subjects  for  disserta 
tions  to  be  written  for  the  Bowdoin  Prizes  were  given 
out.  Four  prizes  were  offered :  two  of  the  first  grade, 
thirty  dollars  each;  and  two  of  the  second  grade, 
twenty  dollars  each.  At  once  I  determined  to  try  for 
a  prize.  No  Freshman  ever  had  gained  one,  if  any  had 
ever  written  for  one.  Nor  was  it  expected  that  students 
of  the  Freshman  Class  would  enter  the  lists.  Neverthe 
less  I  determined  to  try.  I  knew  success  would  lift 
me,  at  a  bound,  from  my  low  standing,  and  give  me  at 
once  a  position  among  my  fellows,  from  which  I  could 


COLLEGE  LIFE.  31 

more  easily  ascend  to  something  like  eminence  in  the 
class. 

I  chose  for  my  subject,  "  The  Causes  of  the  Diversities 
of  National  Character."  I  kept  my  intention  a  pro 
found  secret ;  for  I  knew  I  should  be  ridiculed,  without 
mercy,  for  thinking  it  possible  that  I  could  write  a 
dissertation  upon  such  a  subject,  worthy  of  a  prize, 
unless  by  success  I  showed  that  I  could  do  it.  I  was 
obliged  to  study  my  subject  and  write  upon  it  stealthily, 
lest  my  chum  should  discover  my  intention  and  divulge 
it  to  the  class.  I  read  Kaime's  Sketches  of  Man, 
Sidney  on  Government,  Montesquieu  on  the  Spirit 
of  Laws,  from  all  of  which  I  derived  invaluable  hints, 
although  I  could  not  find  in  them  any  thing  exactly  to 
my  purpose.  I  got  all  my  materials  ready,  and  several 
parts  of  the  Dissertation  written  during  the  term  that 
followed  the  announcement  of  the  subjects ;  and  in  the 
spring  vacation  of  two  weeks,  the  last  of  May  and 
first  of  June,  I  engrossed  and  carefully  copied  my 
virgin  Essay. 

It  was  signed  "Juvenis  of  the  Freshman  Class," 
and  was  stealthily  deposited  in  the  appointed  place, 
before  the  close  of  June.  Never  can  I  forget  the 
almost  sleepless  anxiety  with  which  I  awaited  the 
award.  It  was  not  given  until  two  months  after 
wards,  just  before  Commencement. 

One  morning,  in  the  Chapel,  after  prayers,  in  the 
presence  of  the  whole  College,  the  President  requested 
all  to  be  seated,  and  hear  the  report  of  the  committee 
appointed  to  examine  the  various  Dissertations  that 


32  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

had  been  given  in  for  the  Bowdoin  Prizes.  Thirty  one 
or  two,  in  all,  had  been  read  and  compared  by  the 
impartial  examiners,  who  knew  not  the  author  of 
any  one.  All  of  them  were  deemed  meritorious, 
several  of  them  were  excellent;  but  the  committee, 
after  much  deliberation,  had  given  the  preference  to 
the  four  following :  first  one,  by  Mr.  John  Ware,  resident 

graduate;  the  second,  by ,  of  the  Senior  Class; 

the  third,  by  Justin  W.  Clarke,  of  the  Sophomore; 
and  the  fourth,  by  Samuel  J.  May,  of  the  Freshman 
Class.  I  felt  at  one  moment  like  fainting  or  sinking 
through  the  floor,  and  then  like  exhaling.  My  personal 
friends  crowded  about  me  with  their  congratulations. 
But  my  cup  of  joy  was  not  unmixed.  Some  contemp 
tuous  remarks  came  to  my  ears,  and  the  cruel  insinua 
tion  that  it  must  have  been  written  for  me  by  another. 

A  few  weeks  after,  the  Dissertations  were  read  aloud 
in  the  Chapel,  each  by  its  author,  in  presence  of  the 
Faculty  and  all  the  classes,  and  then  fair  copies  of  the 
same  were  deposited  in  the  Library  of  the  University. 

This  was  the  great  event  in  my  college  life.  From 
the  hour  of  this  success,  I  began  to  retrieve  my  reputa 
tion  as  a  scholar,  and  received  a  full  share  of  the  honors 
which  the  Faculty  could  confer. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  Sophomore  year,  I  began 
to  chum  with  my  cousin,  Samuel  E.  Sewall,  a  most 
conscientious,  young  man,  a  diligent  student,  and  a 
distinguished  scholar.  With  him  I  continued  to  live, 
in  the  same  relation,  to  the  close  of  our  college  life; 
and  it  was  a  very  great  advantage  to  me  that  I  was  so 


COLLEGE  LIFE.  33 

associated  with  him.  We  graduated  at  Commencement, 
1817,  he  as  seventh  or  eighth,  and  I  as  the  thirteenth 
or  fourteenth,  in  a  class  of  sixty-seven.  I  was  associated, 
at  the  Exhibition  on  that  day,  in  a  Colloquial  Dis 
cussion  on  the  Sabbath,  Jewish  and  Christian,  with 
Samuel  A.  Eliot,  of  Boston. 

Early  in  my  Junior  year,  I  formed  the  determination 
to  devote  myself  to  the  Christian  ministry.  I  cannot 
now  remember  all  the  influences  that  led  to  nor  the  con 
siderations  that  fixed  me  in  this  determination.  But 
from  that  time  I  paid  more  particular  attention  to 
all  those  branches  of  study  which  had  the  most  ob 
vious  bearing  upon  theological  doctrines  and  moral 
principles.1 

1  At  the  time  when  Mr.  May  entered  college,  and  while  he  was 
residing  at  Cambridge,  the  President  and  professors  were  men  of 
marked  talents  and  character,  whose  influence,  direct  and  indirect, 
could  not  but  have  been  very  great. 

Dr.  Kirkland,  the  President,  was  a  man  of  the  most  genial 
nature,  of  an  unperturbed  constancy  and  serenity,  generous  and 
warm-hearted,  and  showing  a  strong  interest  in  all  the  students. 
His  remarkable  knowledge  of  character,  and  his  power  of  penetrat 
ing  into  that  of  every  person,  were  what  he  had  earnestly  prayed 
for,  and  which  were  fully  granted.  He  felt  and  sympathized  with 
whatever  was  excellent ;  he  saw,  almost  instantly,  what  was  way 
ward,  false,  or  wanting ;  and  he  knew  what  allowance  to  make  for 
inherited  tendencies,  for  the  influence  of  bad  example,  and  for 
the  faults  of  a  perverted  or  neglected  early  education.  He  was 
always  ready  to  help ;  and  he  did  it  so  graciously  that  the  kindness 
was  never  forgotten.  His  manners  —  though  a  part  of  his  child 
hood  was  literally  spent  among  savages,  to  whom  his  father  was  a 
missionary  —  were  delicate  and  urbane,  as  of  one  who  had  passed 
his  life  in  the  best  society.  Such  is  the  almost  miraculous 
power  of  a  devoted  Christian  mother.  He  had  the  persuasive 
2*  c 


34  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

My  most  intimate  friends  in  College  were  Robert 
Schuyler,  Benjamin  Fessenden,  John  Doane  Wells, 

eloquence  —  "  the  visible  rhetoric  "  —  of  a  spotless  life  and  noble 
character. 

John  Farrar,  professor  of  Natural  Philosophy  and  Astronomy, 
was,  in  conversation,  manners,  and  feelings,  all  we  could  ask  for 
in  a  gentleman ;  and,  as  a  lecturer,  of  unsurpassed  ability.  He 
was  so  clear  and  attractive,  and  interested  his  audience  of  Seniors 
and  Juniors  to  such  a  degree,  that  they  forgot  every  thing  else  ; 
and  the  dinner-bell  itself,  though  coming  half  an  hour  after 
the  normal  end  of  the  lecture,  was  often  an  unwelcome  surprise 
and  interruption.  Listening  to  this  natural  eloquence,  one  felt 
that  it  would  be  an  easy  thing  to  lecture  well  upon  such  subjects. 

No  person,  well  prepared  in  the  classical  department,  could  fail 
to  be  influenced  by  the  purity  and  refinement  of  taste  of  Levi 
Frisbie,  professor  of  Latin  ;  who,  though  unable,  from  the  weak 
ness  of  his  eyes,  to  read  himself,  showed  others  how  to  read ;  and 
who,  in  his  class,  when  a  good  scholar  hesitated  for  the  best  ren 
dering  of  a  word  or  sentence,  threw  out  from  underneath  the  hand 
kerchief  which  almost  constantly  covered  his  face  the  most  fitting 
word  or  phrase  which  the  English  language  afforded.  This  could 
not  happen  often,  and,  indeed,  happened  only  to  those  who  were 
nice  in  translating.  Professor  Brazer,  an  excellent  Latin  scholar, 
pupil  and  successor  of  Mr.  Frisbie,  said,  when  he  was  him- 
self  a  teacher,  that  nothing  had  ever  done  so  much  to  raise  his 
own  standard  of  correct  translation  as  these  interjected  words. 

Probably  no  one,  susceptible  of  the  highest  impressions,  could 
remain  unmoved  by  the  elevation  and  purity  of  Mr.  Frisbie's  relig 
ious  character,  which  shed  about  him  an  atmosphere  of  exalted 
feeling  which  almost  imperceptibly  elevated.  The  very  presence 
of  such  a  man  is  a  purifying  influence. 

In  those  years,  Andrews  Norton  was  college  librarian.  This 
office  often  enabled  him,  in  his  modest  way,  to  give  an  important 
turn  to  a  scholar's  reading.  By  a  few  words  to  a  student  going 
off  to  teach  a  winter  school,  he  directed  all  the  leisure  hours  of 
ten  weeks  in  the  country  to  the  most  profitable  reading  and  study. 
During  a  part  of  Mr.  May's  time,  while  a  student  in  theology,  he 
occupied  a  room  near  to  Mr.  Norton's  in  the  pleasant  Appian  Way ; 


COLLEGE  LIFE.  35 

Thomas  Russel  Sullivan,  Samuel  A.  Eliot,  Joseph 
Coolidge,  Charles  Henry  Warren,  Joseph  H.  Jones, 
and,  above  all,  George  B.  Emerson. 

Benjamin  Fesseiiden  was  one  of  the  most  ingenuous, 

and,  attracted  perhaps  by  his  signal  ability  and  the  richness  and 
BUggestiveness  of  his  conversation,  sometimes  visited  him.  Half 
an  hour  with  Mr.  Norton  could  not  fail  to  awaken  and  encourage 
the  highest  thoughts  and  noblest  purposes  in  a  person  as  receptive 
of  good  as  Mr.  May. 

Of  the  sincerity,  the  quiet  wisdom,  the  calm  sagacity,  the  fault 
less  purity  of  life  of  the  Christian  veteran,  the  elder  Henry  Ware, 
Mr.  May  had  reason  to  be  made  fully  aware,  on  the  occasion  men 
tioned  by  himself.  It  was,  doubtless,  the  perception  of  these  rare 
qualities  which  attracted  him. 

Dr.  McKean,  professor  of  Rhetoric,  came  very  little  in  contact 
with  the  students,  and  influenced  them  only  by  his  lectures.  Mr. 
May  was  introduced  to  him,  visited  him  in  his  study,  and  felt  and 
acknowledged  his  kindness. 

The  other  professors  and  tutors  were  men  of  high  character ; 
and,  together  with  those  above  mentioned,  they  had  a  power  to 
influence  young  men  in  the  formation  of  their  character  and  their 
plans  for  life,  such  as  has  rarely  been  possessed  by  a  college 
faculty.  It  cannot  have  been  accidental  that,  from  nearly  every 
class  that  came  under  their  instruction,  so  large  a  number  embraced 
the  profession  which  looks  to  a  higher  end  than  mere  earthly  suc 
cess  ;  that  during  Dr.  Kirkland's  presidency  so  many  of  the  leading 
men  in  ability  and  scholarship,  —  such  as  A.  Lamson  and  F.  W.  P. 
Greenwood ;  C.  Francis  and  Jared  Sparks  ;  the  brothers  W.  B.  O. 
and  0.  W.  B.  Peabody ;  A.  Cummings,  S.  J.  May,  E.  S.  Gannett, 
A.  Yeung ;  A.  Hill  and  G.  W.  Wells  ;  F.  Cunningham  and  J.  Whit 
man  ;  and  many  others  still  ah' ve,  —  chose  theology  for  their 
profession. 

During  the  latter  part  of  the  time  that  Mr.  May  passed  at  Cam 
bridge,  Edward  Everett  and  George  Ticknor  came  to  widen,  by 
their  eloquence  and  thorough  scholarship,  the  course  of  instruc 
tion,  and  to  inaugurate  a  change  which  is  at  this  moment  showing 
its  ripe  fruits.  G.  B.  E. 


86 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


kind-hearted  persons  I  ever  knew ;  and  we  were  wedded 
to  each  other  not  only  by  a  true  friendship,  but  by  our 
mutual  love  of  song.  Our  voices  harmonized  perfectly ; 
and  we  spent  many,  perhaps  too  many,  hours  together 
in  singing. 

John  D.  Wells  was  not  at  all  distinguished  as  a 
college  scholar;  but  he  was  sensible,  and  had  a  great 
deal  of  information  on  some  scientific  subjects,  of 
which  he  was  particularly  fond.  Then  he  was  as  pure 
as  distilled  water,  and  as  affectionate  as  a  woman. 
I  sometimes  felt  really  "  in  love  with  him."  Unex 
pectedly  to  himself,  quite  as  much  as  to  anybody  else, 
he  rose  more  rapidly  after  leaving  College  than  any 
of  my  classmates,  and  died  suddenly,  when  about  thirty- 
three  years  of  age,  one  of  the  most  popular  anatomical 
and  medical  lecturers  in  our  country.  He  was  a  pro 
fessor  in  three  medical  schools  at  the  same  time,  and 
killed  himself  by  his  undue  exertions  to  discharge  his 
official  duties  in  each. 

Thomas  R.  Sullivan,  now  also  dead,  was  a  grandson 
of  Thomas  Russel,  one  of  the  merchant  princes  of 
Boston,  at  the  close  of  the  last  and  for  the  first  ten 
years  of  the  present  century.  He  was  a  young  man  of 
the  most  delicate  sense  of  propriety,  and  of  scrupu 
lously  courteous  manners. 

His  father,  the  late  John  L.  Sullivan,  Esq.,  was  a 
large  owner,  and  the  principal  manager  of  the  Middle 
sex  Canal.  Once  or  twice  every  summer  for  a  number 
of  years,  he  was  wont  to  invite  a  party  of  friends  to 
spend  the  day  with  him  upon  the  Canal  and  on  Woburn 


COLLEGE  LIFE.  37 

Pond,  one  of  its  principal  feeders.  It  was  an  occasion 
that  always  brought  together  as  many  of  the  elite  of 
Boston  as  could  be  pleasantly  accommodated  in  the 
largest  canal-boat.  The  Sullivans,  Amorys,  Eliots, 
Otises,  &c.,  were  there ;  and  his  son  was  empowered  to 
invite  a  suitable  number  of  collegians,  to  insure  to 
the  party  a  due  amount  of  fun  and  frolic.  I  was 
repeatedly  invited. 

On  one  of  these  parties,  an  incident  happened  by 
which  I  was  very  pleasantly  introduced  to  the  great 
Daniel  Webster,  who  had  then  recently  removed  his 
residence  from  Portsmouth  to  Boston ;  and  the  addition 
of  whose  company  to  "  the  Canal  Party  "  made  all  who 
had  the  honor  to  be  invited  the  more  eager  to  go. 

On  our  return  from  Woburn,  we  stopped  for  a  while 
at  a  beautiful  point  on  the  shore  of  Spot  Pond.  So 
soon  as  the  ladies  came  upon  the  margin  of  the  little  lake, 
they  espied  uncountable  numbers  of  the  lilies,  whose 
fragrance  is  so  refreshing.  Each  and  all  exclaimed  how 
much  they  longed  to  have  them.  But,  alas  !  they  were 
too  far  off  to  be  reached  by  any  means  but  a  boat  or  a 
raft.  But  where  could  the  one  be  found,  or  the  ma 
terials  for  the  other  be  collected  ?  The  more  the  prob 
ability  of  getting  them  seemed  to  recede,  the  more 
earnest  became  the  desires  of  the  young  ladies  to  be 
possessed  of  the  beautiful  flowers,  and  the  more  touch 
ing  their  expressions  of  disappointment.  At  length 
Mr.  Webster  exclaimed,  "  Oh  that  I  were  as  young  as  I 
was  a  few  years  ago !  I  would  ransack  the  shores  of  the 
Pond,  until  I  found  some  boat  or  boards  by  which  to 


38  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

reach  and  gather  those  lilies."  No  sooner  were  the 
words  out  of  his  mouth  than  the  young  men  of  the 
party  bounded  off  at  the  top  of  their  speed,  to  find 
what  he  had  intimated  ought  to  be  sought  after. 
Nearly  all  went.  I  stood  very  demurely,  enduring  as 
well  as  I  could  the  glances  of  almost  contemptuous 
surprise  a:  my  want  of  gallantry.  I  stood  until  my 
fellows  were  too  far  gone  to  see  what  I  meant  to  do, 
when  I  waded  out  and  collected  all  that  I  could  bring 
in  of  the  lovely  tempters.  Shouts  of  applause  cheered 
me  on;  and  when  I  reached  the  shore,  soaked  with 
water  from  my  waistcoat  pockets  downwards,  and 
presented  to  each  of  the  ladies  one  or  more  of  the 
flowers  they  had  so  much  desired,  their  thanks  were 
profuse,  and  to  me  quite  as  grateful  as  the  fragrance  of 
the  lilies,  mixed  as  they  were  with  tender  expressions 
of  anxiety  lest  my  gallantry  should  cost  me  some 
severe  sickness.  The  gentlemen  were  not  backward  in 
commending  the  exploit,  and  Mr.  Webster  was  louder 
than  all  of  them  in  my  praise.  "  Ah,  sir,"  said  I,  "  the 
ladies  owe  these  lilies  less  to  my  gallantry  than  to  your 
eloquence.  I  could  not  stand  unmoved  by  your  appeal." 
"  Never  before,"  he  exclaimed,  —  "  never  before  have  I 
gained  a  lily  by  my  eloquence."  "No,  sir,"  I  rejoined, 
"but  it  has  often  been  crowned  with  laurels."  All  this 
of  course  prolonged  somewhat  the  merriment,  until  we 
saw  the  young  men  returning  along  the  shore  of  the 
lake,  dragging  an  old  dory  which  they  had  found  about 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  off.  Immediately  all  the  company 
arranged  themselves  to  welcome  the  poor  fellows, 


COLLEGE  LIFE.  89 

every  lady  with  a  lily  in  her  bosom,  or  on  her  head, 
and  every  gentleman  swinging  one  in  his  hand.  So 
soon  as  my  comrades  got  near  enough  to  espy  the 
flowers,  they  dropped  the  rope  of  the  boat,  and  pushed 
forward  to  be  assured  that  the  appearance  was  a  reality. 
And  when  they  saw  that  the  lilies  had  indeed  been 
taken  from  the  pond,  and  found  that  they  had  "  gotten 
only  their  labor  for  their  pains,"  while  they  in  their 
hearts  generously  exulted  with  me  in  my  triumph,  they 
threatened  me  with  all  sorts  of  retaliations  if  I  were 
not  protected  by  the  presence  of  the  fair  sex. 

After  this  pleasant  introduction  to  the  great  orator, 
he  always  graciously  recognized  me  wherever  we  met, 
until  his  fearful  recreancy  to  the  cause  of  liberty 
impelled  me  to  lift  my  voice  on  the  4th  of  July,  1838, 
in  earnest  condemnation  of  one  whom  I  had  once  so 
profoundly  respected  and  ardently  admired. 

The  last  named  in  the  foregoing  list  of  my  most 
intimate  college  friends  —  George  B.  Emerson  —  was 
one  of  our  prominent  scholars.  But,  better  than  that, 
he  was  a  sensible,  staid  young  man,  right  in  all  his 
purposes  of  life,  correct  in  all  his  habits.  The  class 
called  him  "  Pater."  I  respected  and  loved  him  more 
than  any  one  of  my  fellows;  and  my  acquaintance 
with  him  has  been  one  of  the  great  blessings  of  my  life. 
After  we  had  been  intimate  a  year  or  more,  we  found 
that  we  were  of  the  same  age  precisely,  —  to  a  day,  as 
our  family  records  showed ;  to  an  hour,  so  far  as  our 
mothers  could  remember.  This,  no  doubt,  helped  to 
cement  our  friendship.  He  was  less  convivial  than  my- 


40  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

self,  more  studious,  and  consequently  a  much  better 
scholar.  He  was  often  vexed  with  me  that  I  did  no  bet 
ter;  and  his  faithful,  affectionate  admonitions  roused 
me  to  exertion,  and  kept  me  from  falling  to  a  lower 
grade.1 

1  Of  the  feelings  entertained  toward  Mr.  May  by  those  of  his 
classmates  who  knew  him  best,  the  following  extracts  from  letters 
give  evidence. 

One  of  them,  Fessenden,  with  whom  he  was  intimate  till  the 
end  of  their  theological  studies,  says  :  — 

"  All  my  recollections  of  May  are  pleasant.  I  never  heard  an 
angry  or  unkind  expression  from  his  lips.  He  could  vent  his 
righteous  indignation  at  wrong  in  no  measured  terms ;  but,  while 
he  condemned,  he  pitied  and  forgave.  His  heart  always  overflowed 
with  the  milk  of  human  kindness,  and  his  whole  aim  and  desire 
was  to  make  his  fellow-men  better  and  happier.  You  and  I  knew 
that  splendid  man,  his  father.  Sam  inherited  his  noble  qualities, 
and  an  anecdote  of  the  father  will  illustrate  the  character  of  both. 

"It  was  said  that  the  Colonel,  while  travelling  on  the  road, 
would  alight  and  remove  a  stone  or  other  obstruction  that  might 
jolt  or  incommode  the  traveller.  So  Sam's  whole  life  was,  I 
think,  spent  in  efforts  to  remove  obstacles  in  the  way  to  the  happi 
ness  and  peace  of  his  fellows.  He  is  to-day  reaping  his  reward." 

Another,  S.  E.  Sewall,  writes  thus  :  — 

"I  am  sorry  that  I  remember  so  little  about  S.  J.  May's  life 
in  college.  Our  college  life  seems  to  me  like  a  pleasant  dream, 
of  which  I  retain  a  vivid  recollection  of  only  a  few  particulars. 

"  I  felt  then,  as  I  have  ever  since,  the  charm  of  his  character. 
Always  affectionate,  always  sympathetic,  always  conscientious, 
with  a  delightful  voice  and  agreeable  manners,  —  every  one  who 
met  him  was  drawn  towards  him.  I  did  not  realize  then,  as  I 
have  since,  the  full  excellence  of  his  character,  and  his  great 
power  of  acting  on  individuals  and  society,  —  a  power  which  he 
always  exercised  for  good  purposes.  In  truth,  my  admiration  of 
his  character  has  been  steadily  growing,  till  now,  when  he  is  gone 
from  us,  I  see  its  nearness  to  perfection." 

Another  says :  — 


COLLEGE  LIFE.  41 

"Mr.  May  was  always  a  modest  man,  but  he  was  sincere  and 
conscientious;  and,  embracing  the  truth  which  offered  itself  to 
him  as  if  it  came  from  the  Source  of  all  truth,  he  could  not  easily 
be  moved  from  his  conclusions.  He  listened  patiently,  and  with 
perfect  fairness  and  honesty,  to  all  that  was  said ;  but  yielded  only 
to  what  seemed  to  him  a  higher  view  of  truth.  It  is  remarkable 
in  how  many  instances  he  embraced  truths  of  the  highest  impor 
tance,  though,  to  hold  them,  he  was  obliged  to  stand  out  against 
those  for  whom  he  had  the  greatest  affection  and  respect." 


CHAPTER  Y. 

PREPARATION  FOR   THE  MINISTRY. 

TEACHER  AT  HINGHAM. — RESIDENT  GRADUATE  AT  CAMRRIDGB, 

—  STATE  OF  THEOLOGICAL  LEARNING.  —  PAINFUL  DDUBTS. 

—  NOBLE   COURSE   OF  REV.  DR.  WARE.  —  NOAH    WORCES 

TER  AND  THE  PEACE  SOCIETY.  —  TEACHER  AT  BEVERLY. 

TT?ARLY  in  October,  1817,  I  removed  to  Hingham, 
•*— '  on  an  engagement  with  the  Rev.  Henry  Colman, 
to  study  theology  under  his  direction,  and  assist  him  in 
teaching  a  small  classical  school,  comprising,  if  I  remem 
ber  correctly,  six  or  eight  boys  from  Boston,  an.d  his 
three  children,  Anna,  Sarah,  and  James  Freeman. 

The  arrangement  was  that  we  should  keep  the  school, 
each  alone,  a  week  alternately.  I  did  not  like  it  I 
could  neither  pursue  any  course  of  study  as  I  wished 
to,  nor  could  I  conduct  the  school  in  a  manner  satisfac 
tory  to  myself.  On  the  first  of  the  following  May, 
therefore,  I  was  generously  released  by  Mr.  Colman 
from  my  engagement;  and  my  classmate  and  friend, 
Robert  F.  Walcutt,  succeeded  me. 

But  my  short  residence  in  Hingham  was  by  no 
means  an  unimportant  portion  of  my  early  life.  It  not 
only  instituted  a  friendship  between  myself  and  Mr.  Col 
man,  which  continued  with  unabated  warmth  as  long  as 
he  lived,  but  it  introduced  me  to  the  acquaintance  of  a 
number  of  remarkable  and  interesting  persons.  I  would 


PREPARATION  FOR   THE  MINISTRY.          43 

particularly  mention  the  Rev.  Dr.  Allyn,  of  Duxbury,  — 
a  very  eccentric  but  a  very  wise  man ;  and  his  admir 
able  daughter  Abby  Allyn,  afterwards  the  wife  of  the 
late  Professor  Convers  Francis,  of  the  Divinity  School, 
Cambridge.  To  Mr.  Colman  I  am  indebted  for  the 
honor  and  pleasure  I  enjoyed  of  being  introduced,  in 
the  spring  of  1818,  to  the  venerable  John  Adams  and 
wife.  Mr.  Adams  was  quite  a  theologian,  and  devoted 
much  of  his  time  during  the  last  years  of  his  life  to  the 
study  of  theology.  He  loved  to  converse  with  sensible, 
learned  ministers.  Mr.  Colman  seemed  to  be  one  of 
his  favorites.  And  on  one  occasion,  when  going  to 
visit  the  venerable  ex-president,  he  was  so  kind  as  to 
take  me  with  him.  Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  A.  appeared  to 
be  in  excellent  health,  excepting  only  some  of  the 
infirmities  of  old  age.  They  conversed  with  much 
animation  on  the  subjects  which  were  at  that  day 
most  interesting ;  and  I  listened  to  them  for  hours,  with 
admiration  of  them,  not  only  for  what  they  had  been, 
but  what  they  then  were. 

Immediately  after  the  short  spring  vacation  in  May, 
I  removed  to  Cambridge,  and  took  a  room  next  to  the 
house  in  whi  ih  Professor  Andrews  Norton  (then  the 
librarian)  lodged.  My  classmates  and  friends,  Samuel 
A.  Eliot,  Benjamin  Fessenden,  and  Thomas  R.  Sullivan, 
—  all  of  them  engaged  in  the  study  of  Divinity, — 
occupied  rooms  in  the  same  street. 

From  the  Dana  House  I  removed  to  the  Appian 
Way.  There  I  lived,  if  I  remember  correctly,  a  year; 
enjoying  the  society  of  the  above-named  classmates, 


44  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

and  occasionally  of  Professor  Norton.  The  Divinity 
School  was  then  hardly  organized.  We  obtained  what 
advice  and  direction  we  sought  from  Dr.  Ware,  Profes 
sor  Norton,  and  Professor  Frisbie.  We  attended  any 
of  the  College  Lectures  that  we  pleased,  and  had  some 
special  lectures  given  to  us,  by  Professor  Frisbie,  on 
Moral  Philosophy ;  by  Professor  Norton,  on  Biblical 
Interpretation ;  and  by  Dr,  Ware,  on  Dogmatic  History. 
We  also  received  some  instruction  in  Hebrew  from 
Professor  Willard ;  and,  towards  the  last  of  our  course, 
from  Professor  Edward  Everett,  on  Greek  Literature. 
But,  for  the  most  part,  we  were  left  to  ourselves  to  pur 
sue  our  studies  as  we  might,  receiving  no  thorough 
training  in  any  department. 

We  formed  a  society  for  mutual  religious  improve 
ment.  At  our  meetings,  one  of  our  number  oifered 
prayer,  and  preached  a  sermon,  which  we  criticised. 
Some  one  or  two  of  the  professors  usually  attended 
these  meetings,  and  favored  us  with  their  criticisms. 
Professor  Everett  kindly  invited  us  to  meet  him  for 
exercises  in  elocution,  and  we  did  so  a  few  times. 

Now,  when  I  look  back  upon  the  course  of  study  we 
pursued,  it  seems  meagre  indeed.  Most  of  the  best 
books  which  are  now  studied  by  the  young  men  in  the 
Divinity  School  have  come  into  existence,  or  been 
introduced  from  Germany,  since  our  day. 

Soon  after  the  commencement  of  my  studies  at 
Cambridge,  an  incident  happened,  so  honorable  to 
another,  and  so  important  in  its  influence  upon  myself, 
that  I  ought  to  preserve  the  memory  of  it.  Before 


PREPARATION  FOR   THE  MINISTRY.         45 

beginning  the  study  of  Theology,  I  had  never  thought 
much  on  the  subject.  My  religious  affections  had  been 
quickened  and  cultivated  by  my  parents  and  other 
religious  friends,  and  by  some  of  the  circumstances  in 
which  I  had  been  placed.  But  as  to  the  doctrines  of 
the  Gospel,  I  had  accepted  reverently,  without  question 
ing,  such  as  were  current  among  Unitarians  in  the  days 
of  my  youth.  As  soon,  however,  as  I  set  about  prepar 
ing  for  the  ministry,  I  felt  it  to  be  my  duty  to  study 
the  subject,  and  look  into  the  mysteries  of  our  Faith, 
so  far  as  it  may  be  given  us  to  know  them.  The  New 
England  Unitarian  Controversy  had  commenced,  having 
been  started  in  1815,  by  Dr.  Morse,  of  Charlestown,  in 
"  The  Panoplist,"  by  an  attack  upon  the  liberal  minis 
ters  of  Boston.  I  had,  however,  been  too  much  en 
grossed  with  college  matters  to  pay  any  careful  atten 
tion  to  it.  Nor  had  it  advanced  far  when  I  entered  the 
Divinity  School. 

Of  course  I  commenced,  in  good  earnest,  the  study 
of  the  Sacred  Scriptures.  And  it  was  not  long  before 
doubts  of  their  plenary  inspiration  arose  in  my  mind ; 
and  then  a  disbelief  of  the  miraculous  conception  of 
Jesus  Christ.  I  was  alarmed,  distressed.  It  seemed  as 
if  the  very  foundation  was  falling  away  from  under  me. 
I  feared  that  there  might  be  some  fatal  defect  in  my 
mind,  that  would  unfit  me  for  the  Christian  ministry. 
My  concern  became  so  serious  and  oppressive,  that  I 
felt  obliged  to  reveal  my  spiritual  condition  to  the 
Father  of  the  Divinity  School,  and  ask  his  counsel. 
So,  in  great  perturbation,  I  went  to  Dr.  Ware's  study. 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

He  received  me  kindly,  as  he  was  wont  to  do.     I  looked 
anxiously  around,  to  be  sure  that  no  other  person  was 
in  hearing,  and  then  asked  him  if  he  was  willing  to 
receive  an  important  communication  from  me.     He  en 
couraged  me  to  unbosom  myself  with  perfect  frankness. 
I  was  much  agitated ;  for  I  feared  that  I  was  about  to 
shock  him,  and  reveal  to  him  a  condition  that  he  would 
deem  hopeless.     However,  I  had  resolved  that  I  ought 
to  do  it,  and  so  I  did.     I  told  him  of  the  doubts  that 
had  arisen  to  trouble  me,  and,  as  I  feared,  to  debar  my 
progress  in  the  course  of  life  which  I  had  chosen.    I 
kept  no  secret  of  my  heart  on  the  subject  undisclosed. 
When  I  had  finished,  — the  Doctor  had   listened   so 
silently  and  thoughtfully  that  I  felt  like  a  convicted 
criminal,  in  the  presence  of  his  judge,  about  to  receive 
sentence,  —  it  seemed  a  long  while  before  he  spoke. 
But  when  he  did,  it  was  in  the  tenderest  accents.     "  My 
young  friend,"  said  he,  "I  am  glad  to  find  that  you 
have  arrived  at  a  doubt.     I  perceive  that  you  have 
begun  to  think  on  the  great  subjects  to  which  you  have 
turned  your  attention,  —  that  you  have  entered  upon 
the  study  of  Theology  in  good  earnest."     After  a  long 
breath  of  surprise  and  relief,  I  replied :   "  I  thank  you, 
sir,  for  your  kindness ;  but  will  you  tell  me  how  these 
doubts  are  to   be   resolved?"      He   answered:    "Mr. 
May,  I  cannot  resolve  your  doubts  for  you  if  I  would ;» 
and   I   would   not   resolve   them  for  you  if  I  could. 
When  finite  minds  turn  to  the  contemplation  of  the 
nature,  character,  providence,  and  word  of  the  Infinite, 
it  is  to  be  expected  that  some  things  will  appear  difficult 


PREPARATION  FOR   THE  MINISTRY.         47 

to  be  understood,  that  doubts  will  arise.     These  are 
adapted   to  stimulate  us  to  further  and  more  careful 
inquiry.     The  All- wise  Father  has  not  vouchsafed  to  us 
a  full  and  exact  statement  of  all  the  truths  we  are 
ea^rer  to  know  respecting  Himself,  His  beloved  Son, 
our  own  nature  and  destiny.     "We  are  left  to  seek  after, 
if  happily  we  may  find,  what  we  desire  to  know.     This 
is  a  part  of  our  trial,  of  our  discipline.     You  have  just 
entei  id   upon   the   grand   inquiries.     You  should  not 
wonder  that  you  are  perplexed  by  some  queries  that 
have  suggested  themselves.     Go  on  diligently  in  your 
search  after  the  truth.     These  doubts  will  be  removed ; 
other  doubts  will  perhaps  arise.     And  they  will  stimu 
late  you  to  further  and  profounder  researches.     I  have 
had  my  doubts ;  I  have  some  still,  and  expect  to  have 
them  until  faith  is  turned  to  sight."     "  But,  sir,"  said  I, 
"what  are  the  essential  truths,  —  truths  that  I  must 
believe  ?  "     "  All  truth,"  he  replied,  "  is  essential.     You 
are  bound  to  believe  whatever,  at  any  time,  shall  appear 
to  you  to  be  true  ;  and  you  are  bound  to  believe  it  until 
you  shall  cease  to  be  satisfied  that  it  is  true."     I  still 
insisted,  "  How  shall  I  know,  sir,  that  what  I  believe  at 
any  time  is  true  ?  "     "  If  you  sincerely  desire  and  long 
for  the  truth,"  the  Doctor  added,  "  the  Father  of  your 
spirit  will  not  permit  you  to  remain  satisfied  in  error. 
And  if  what  you  believe,  at  any  time,  leads  you  to  rev 
erence  God  and  keep  his  commandments,  to  love  your 
fellow-beings  and  delight  to  do  them  good,  it  cannot  be 
a  dangerous  error." 

This  conversation  not  only  comforted  and  strength- 


48  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

ened  me  at  the  time,  but  has  had  an  effect  upon  the 
conduct  and  character  of  my  life  ever  since.  I  have 
never  been  afraid  to  pursue  any  inquiry  after  truth, 
however  it  might  seem  to  endanger  long-cherished 
opinions. 

During  the  last  years  of  my  college  life,  I  became 
acquainted  with  the  venerable  Noah  Worcester,  D.D., 
author  of  a  somewhat  remarkable  book,  in  its  day, 
entitled,  "Bible  News  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Spirit ; "  but  most  widely  known,  and  to  be  longest 
remembered,  as  "the  Apostle  of  Peace."  Having 
bestowed  much  attention  upon  this  subject,  in  1814  he 
published  his  "  Solemn  Review  of  the  Custom  of  War," 
—  the  most  impressive  and  efficient  pamphlet  that  has 
ever  been  published,  so  far  as  my  acquaintance  with 
such  things  extends. 

This  tract  produced  a  powerful  effect  on  my  mind. 
I  sought  the  acquaintance  of  the  venerable  author,  and 
record  it  as  one  of  the  blessings  of  my  life  that,  from 
1819  to  the  time  of  his  death,  I  enjoyed  his  friendship, 
and  was  permitted  to  hold  some  correspondence  with 
him.  He  was  the  most  holy  man  I  ever  knew. 

The  first  great  Christian  reform  that  I  ever  embraced 
was  thus  the  one  inaugurated  by  him, —  the  attempt  to 
abolish  the  custom  of  war. 

IL  the  winter  of  1818  and  1819,  I  kept  a  district 
school  for  two  or  three  months,  in  the  town  of  Beverly. 
This  was  my  second  experience  as  a  pedagogue,  having 


PREPARATION  FOR   THE  MINISTRY.         49 

taught  a  school  in  the  town  of  Concord,  in  the  winter 
of  1816  and  1817.  Nothing  remarkable  happened  in 
my  experience  as  a  school-teacher,  excepting  that  I 
peremptorily  and  persistently  refused  to  prepare  my 
pupils  for  the  examination,  by  the  special  assignment  to 
each  one  of  the  questions  to  be  answered  by  him  or  her, 
and  the  passages  to  be  recited  in  presence  of  the  com 
mittee.  Such,  I  was  told,  had  been  the  custom  of  my 
predecessors ;  and  my  refusal  to  comply  with  it  excited 
not  a  little  commotion  throughout  the  district.  But 
when,  in  the  end,  my  pupils  appeared  so  well  that  the 
school  was  pronounced  by  the  committee  one  of  the 
three  best  in  the  town,  the  parents  and  children  were 
more  than  satisfied. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HORSEBACK  JOURNEY  TO   WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 

COMPANIONS.  —  ASCENT  or  MT.  WASHINGTON.  —  MOUNTAIN 
CRANBERRIES.  —  "OLD  CRAWFORD." — THE  FORGOTTEN 
FLASK.  —  SUSPICIOUS  CHARACTERS.  —  GREAT  DEMAND  FOR 
MILK.  —  THE  BEST  BEHAVED. 

A  T  the  time  we  were  leaving  College,  the  dysentery 
f*-  prevailed  in  Cambridge.  Many  of  the  students 
were  sick,  and  several  died.  Emerson  had  it.  He 
was  barely  able  to  stand  upon  the  stage  on  Commence 
ment  Day  long  enough  to  deliver  his  dissertation.  So 
soon  as  the  exercises  of  Commencement  were  over,  I 
took  him  to  my  father's  house,  where  my  mother  and 
sisters  nursed  him  for  more  than  a  week.  When  he 
had  recovered  sufficiently  to  travel,  I  went  with  him 
to  his  home  in  Wells,  now  Kennebunk,  Maine,  and  spent 
several  weeks  with  him.  His  father,  Dr.  Samuel  Emer 
son,  was  a  good  scholar  and  excellent  physician,  a  most 
genial  man,  and  a  fine  musician.  I  enjoyed  every 
moment  that  I  remained  under  his  roof.  He  embraced 
me  as  a  son,  and  our  friendship  continued  until  his 
death. 

Two  years  after  this,  while  I  was  making  a  visit  at 
Emerson's,  our  classmates,  Samuel  E.  Sewall,  Caleb 
Cushing,  and  Joseph  Coolidge,  with  William  Ware  of 
the  class  before  us,  canie,  according  to  agreement  made 


JOURNEY  TO    WHITE  MOUNTAINS. 

at  Cambridge  and  at  Emerson's  invitation,  to  go  with 
us  to  the  White  Hills  and  Mount  Washington,  their 
summit,  in  New  Hampshire.  We  were  joined  by 
Joseph  G.  Moody,  of  Kennebunk,  a  cousin  of  Emerson's, 
a  graduate  of  Bowdoin ;  and,  on  the  fifth  or  sixth  day 
of  September,  we  set  off  on  our  excursion,  —  six  on 
horseback,  one  in  a  wagon,  to  carry  our  baggage  and 
give  to  the  inexperienced  horsemen  of  the  party  an 
occasional  respite.  This  proved  to  be  a  wise  precau 
tion;  for  several  of  us  had  never  before  ridden  on 
horseback  ten  miles  at  a  time. 

The  incidents  of  this  journey  were  all  so  pleasant 
and  some  so  amusing  that  I  cannot  resist  the  tempta 
tion  to  record  them.  We  left  our  horses  at  the  Willey 
House l  at  12  M.  on  the  9th  of  September,  walked  to 
the  highest  point  of  the  Gap,  and  there,  after  resting 
awhile  and  admiring  the  bold,  sublime  features  of  the 
scene,  we  stepped  over  one  of  the  little  brooks  that 
was  hastening  on  to  contribute  itself  to  the  Saco,  and 
commenced  the  ascent  of  Mount  Washington,  the  peak 
of  which  was  four  or  five  miles  off.  We  toiled  up 
about  half  way  to  a  spot  where  we  were  told  it  would 
be  best  for  us  to  spend  the  night,  and  where  there  was 
a  rough  bark  shed  about  twelve  feet  long  and  eight 
feet  deep,  open  in  front.  "Old  Crawford"  was  our 
guide  and  instructor  in  all  that  we  needed  to  know  of 
"  camp  life  upon  the  mountains."  Under  his  direction 
we  gathered  about  a  cord  of  dry  wood,  enough  to  keep 

1  The  dwellers  in  which  were  afterwards  overwhelmed  by  an 
avalanche 


52 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


a  good  fire  all  night  burning  in  front  of  our  shed.     We 
then  covered  the  floor  of  the  shed  with  enough  of  the 
small  boughs  of  the  hemlock  to  make  us  a  soft  bed ; 
and  after  eating  a  hearty  supper  of  the  good  things 
we  had  carried  in  our  knapsacks,  and  talking  awhile  of 
our  adventures  thus  far  on  the  journey,  we  bestowed 
ourselves  at  an  early  hour  upon  our  leafy  couch,  side 
by  side,  for  a  long  night's  rest,  that  we  might  be  well 
prepared  for  the  fatigues  of  the  next  day.     Our  good 
old  guide  reclined  himself  at  our  feet,  intending,  as  he 
assured  us,  to  keep  one  eye  open,  so  that  the  fire  should 
not  go  out  nor  any  harm  befall  us.     We  slept  soundly, 
and  awoke  just  as  the  sunlight  was  gilding  the  tops  of 
the  trees.     We  made  our  toilette  as  well  as  was  pos 
sible  under  the  circumstances ;  did  justice  to  the  break 
fast  which  our  guide  helped  us  to  prepare,  and  which 
we  all  pronounced  excellent;    and  by  seven    o'clock 
took  up  our  line  of  march.     The  path  was  narrow,  so 
that  much  of  the  way  we  were  obliged  to  follow  our 
leader  in  single  file.     It  was  obscure,  often  determined 
only  by  marked  trees,  some  of  which  "  Old  Crawford  " 
alone  could  discover.     But  he  confidently  assured  us 
he  knew  the  way.     About  nine    o'clock,  however,  a 
dense  fog  settled  upon  the  side  of  the  mountain.     Our 
guide  was  perplexed,  and,  bidding  us  stay  where  we 
were,  went  off  to  explore.     It  was  so  cold  that  we 
made    up    a   good   fire,   and   waited   as   patiently   as 
we  could  for  his  return.     He  got  back  in  less  than  an 
hour.    He  had  found  what  he  was  sure  he  had  not  lost, 
—  his  way.     The  cloud  passed  off;  we  started  forward 


JOURNEY  TO    WHITE  MOUNTAINS.  53 

with  renewed  alacrity,  and  soon  reached  the  summit 
of  Mount  Adams.  From  that  elevation  we  could  see 
what  remained  to  be  accomplished,  —  a  descent  of  sev 
eral  hundred  feet  into  the  valley  between,  and  then 
the  ascent  to  the  summit  of  Mount  Washington,  three 
or  four  hundred  feet  higher  than  we  had  yet  climbed. 
Nothing  daunted,  we  shouted  and  sang  to  wake  up  all 
our  energies,  and  then  pressed  on.  The  mountain 
cranberries  were  in  perfection,  and  we  regaled  our 
selves  upon  them  freely.  Just  as  we  reached  the  top 
of  a  steep  hill  over  which  our  path  lay,  we  came  upon 
an  extensive  bed  of  them ;  and  William  Ware  threw 
himself  prostrate  into  their  midst,  crying  out,  "  Come, 
boys,  let  us  browse."  This  future  author  of  "  Zenobia," 
"  Julian,"  and  their  kindred  works,  was  rather  the  mer 
riest  and  wittiest  of  us  all.  We  needed  not  a  second 
call,  but  instantly  were  lying  as  low  as  he,  and  eating 
as  freely  of  the  not  forbidden  fruit ;  for,  though  we  had 
never  tasted  them  before,  "  Old  Crawford "  assured  us 
mountain  cranberries  were  wholesome. 

About  twelve  we  reached  the  little  crystal  lake  that 
wells  up  at  the  foot  of  the  last  ascent.  It  was  then 
called  "Washington's  punch-bowl;"  but  we  found  it 
filled  only  with  "Adam's  ale."  We  drank  freely  of 
the  beverage  without  adulterating  it;  for,  though  none 
of  us  were  then  pledged  to  total  abstinence,  we  cared 
so  little  for  "  eau  de  vie,"  that  the  single  bottle  of  it 
which  we  had  brought  with  us  had  not  been  uncorked, 
and  was  carelessly  left  behind  us  on  the  top  of  Mount 
Adams. 


54  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

After  refreshing  ourselves  with  such  food  as  we  had 
and  the  cool  water  from  the  aforesaid  punch-bowl,  we 
commenced  the  ascent  of  the  Peak.  It  was  much 
steeper  and  more  difficult  than  any  we  had  yet 
attempted;  but  we  accomplished  it  in  less  than  an 
hour,  for  at  one  o'clock  we  stood  upon  the  summit  of 
Mount  Washington.  There  was  no  shelter  there  then. 
Few  adventurers  had  scaled  that  height  before  our 
day.  The  road  has  been  made  and  the  Mountain 
House  built  long  since  we  were  there.  We  found  a 
few  names  and  more  initials  engraven  upon  the  rocks, 
and  one  brass  plate,  on  which  were  the  names  of  a 
small  party  that  had  visited  the  spot  the  year  before. 
We  found  it  quite  cold,  and  a  good  deal  of  ice  there ; 
but  we  were  loath  to  quit  the  height  we  had  reached 
with  so  much  toil.  When  we  were  about  half  way  up 
from  our  last  stopping-place,  an  eagle  of  the  largest 
Bize  sailed  haughtily  away  from  her  lonely  aerie,  as  if 
indignant  at  our  intrusion.  I  felt  like  making  an  apol 
ogy,  for  it  did  seem  as  if  none  but  winged  bipeds  had 
any  right  there.  But  we  were  amply  repaid  for  our 
presumption.  We  had  risen  to  a  region  above  all 
mists  and  clouds.  There  they  lay  far  below  us;  and 
as  the  rays  of  the  sun  struck  upon  their  upper  surfaces, 
they  looked  just  like  banks  of  the  whitest  snow. 

About  two  o'clock  we  reluctantly  began  our  descent, 
and  between  five  and  six  reached  the  shed  where  we 
lodged  the  night  before.  Two  or  three  of  our  party  — 
Gushing  and  Coolidge  and  Emerson — pressed  on  to 
the  Willey  House.  The  rest  of  us,  with  the  old  guide, 


JOURNEY  TO    WHITE  MOUNTAINS.  55 

were  too  much  fatigued  to  go  any  further;  so  we 
passed  a  second  night  upon  the  mountain. 

The  next  morning,  by  nine  o'clock,  we  rejoined  our 
companions;  and,  mounting  our  horses,  were  in  due 
time  back  at  "  Old  Crawford's  "  House. 

Our  return  journey  was  even  more  pleasant  than  the 
outv/ard.  We  came  by  the  way  of  Red  Hill,  Winni- 
piseogee  Lake,  and  Smith's  Pond.  We  stopped  at  an 
inn  in  the  small  village  of  Centre  Harbor.  We  ascended 
Red  Hill,  which  would  be  called  a  mountain  if  it  were 
not  in  the  region  of  those  that  are  so  much  more  lofty. 
From  the  summit,  the  prospect  was  most  enchanting. 

Smith's  Pond  we  reached  with  some  difficulty,  owing 
to  the  bad  condition  of  the  road,  much  of  which  was 
"  corduroy."  But  we  found  it  an  exceedingly  beautiful 
sheet  of  water,  and  concurred  in  approving  the  taste 
of  one  of  the  old  royal  governors  of  the  State, — 
Wentworth,  I  believe,  —  in  placing  his  summer  resi 
dence  upon  the  shore  of  it. 

We  did  not  hurry  homeward,  seldom  travelling  more 
than  twenty  miles  a  day.  Often  we  passed  through 
unfrequented  roads;  and,  as  there  were  six  of  us  on 
horseback,  rather  shabbily  dressed,  and  two  carried 
fowling-pieces,  and  one  a  travelling  barometer,  we  made 
a  somewhat  formidable,  and  perhaps  suspicious,  appear 
ance.  Suffice  it  to  say,  the  inhabitants  of  one  small 
hamlet  of  two  or  three  houses  were  so  much  alarmed 
that  they  fled  at  our  approach. 

One  day  —  I  think  it  was  as  we  were  going  out  —  we 
passed  a  man  on  horseback.  Wishing  to  learn  some- 


56  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

thing  about  the  country  through  which  we  were  travel, 
ling,  I  dropped  behind  my  party  and  essayed  to  join 
him.  It  was  evident  he  did  not  incline  to  my  company. 
After  putting  various  questions  to  him,  which  he 
answered  very  shortly,  I  said  to  him,  "  Pray,  sir,  what 
is  the  name  of  that  tree  ?  "  pointing  to  a  large  one  on 
his  side  of  the  road.  He  replied,  very  gruffly,  "  There 
is  no  need  of  your  asking  that  question."  "Why, 
sir,"  I  rejoined,  "I  surely  should  not  have  asked  you 
the  question  unless  I  had  desired  to  know."  "  Ah ! " 
he  said,  with  all  the  determination  of  manner  that  he 
could  command,  "  I  can  see  through  folks  as  well  as 
most  men."  This  revealed  to  me  his  distrust  of  us, 
and  his  fear.  Laughingly,  I  said,  "  Who  do  you  take 
us  to  be  ? "  and,  not  waiting  for  his  answer,  "  On  the 
whole,  I  do  not  wonder  much  that  you  are  suspicious 
of  us.  We  are  rather  an  ill-dressed,  shabby-looking 
set  of  fellows,  but  you  need  not  be  afraid  of  us.  We 
are  a  party  of  collegians,  just  graduated  at  the  Univer 
sity,  and  are  off  on  an  excursion  to  Mount  Washing 
ton.  Knowing  that  we  shall  have  to  make  our  way 
through  tangled  woods  and  bushes,  and  sleep  upon  the 
ground,  we  have  put  on  our  poorer  instead  of  our 
better  clothes.  We  have  brought  with  us  those  fowl 
ing  pieces,  that  we  may  hear  the  reverberations  of  their 
reports  in  the  Gap,  and  perhaps  shoot  a  few  partridges 
or  rabbits.  The  other  thing,  which  that  young  man 
[pointing  to  Caleb  Gushing]  has  in  his  hand,  and 
which,  at  a  distance,  may  look  like  a  gun,  is  a  travelling 
barometer.  We  are  taking  that  with  us  in  order  to 


JOURNEY  TO    WHITE  MOUNTAINS.  57 

ascertain  the  heights  of  the  several  mountains  over 
which  we  shall  climb.1'  This  account  of  ourselves 
seemed  to  satisfy  him  that  we  were  not  banditti ;  and 
he  told  me  the  name  of  the  tree  we  had  passed. 

£)n  one  of  the  retired  roads  over  which  we  passed, 
we  came  to  a  small,  neat  house,  around  which  were 
the  indications  of  a  large  dairy.  So  the  purveyor  of 
our  party  went  to  the  door,  and  inquired  if  we  could 
have  some  refreshment,  telling  the  woman  of  the  house 
that  bread  and  milk  would  be  all  we  should  desire  to 
have.  The  good  woman,  a  little  flustered  at  seeing 
six  highwaymen  at  her  gate,  replied  hurriedly,  "Oh, 
yes,  sir !  oh,  yes !  come  in,  you  can  have  that."  So  we 
all  went  in,  and  took  possession  of  her  largest  room. 
She  soon  brought  us  bowls  of  the  delicious  beverage, 
with  bread  that  was  equally  good.  We  quickly  emptied 
the  first  bowls,  and  called  for  more ;  and  despatched 
their  contents  with  little  less  delay.  But  when  we 
asked  a  third  time  for  an  equal  portion,  she  seemed 
surprised  ;  and,  placing  it  upon  the  table,  she  burst  into 
a  laugh,  exclaiming,  —  "Young  gentlemen,  I  should 
think  you  had  never  been  weaned ! "  We  enjoyed  the 
joke  as  much  as  she  did,  and  willingly  paid  her  three 
times  as  much  as  she  asked  for  her  milk. 

Our  excursion  occupied  just  a  fortnight.  On  the 
last  day  we  dined  at  an  inn,  somewhere  within  five  or 
six  miles  of  Kennebunk.  We  sat  awhile  after  dinner, 
recounting  the  various  incidents  of  our  journey,  and 
discussing  anew  some  questions  upon  which  our  opin- 
3* 


58 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


ions  had  been  divided.  At  length  the  question  was 
raised,  Which  one  of  the  seven  had  borne  with  most 
patience  and  good-humor  the  discomforts  with  which 
our  pleasures  had  been  slightly  intermixed,  —  the  jolt 
ings,  the  chafings  which  the  inexperienced  riders  had 
had  to  endure,  and  the  repeated  wettings  that  we  all 
had  suffered  ?  Each  one  put  in  his  own  claim  for  the 
meed  of  praise,  and  defended  it  stoutly.  The  discus 
sion  was  spirited,  and  continued  until  we  were  obliged 
to  start  for  home,  when  the  question  was  put  to  vote, 
and  decided  in  favor  of  William  Ware,  nem.  con.  We 
then  soothed  ourselves  and  each  other,  by  passing  unan 
imously  the  resolution,  to  wit :  "  That  we  seven  were 
the  best  behaved,  most  patient,  courteous,  good-natured 
set  of  fellows  that  ever  came  together,  though  William 
Ware  was  rather  the  best  of  the  whole." 

We  were  most  cordially  welcomed  by  our  friends  in 
Kennebunk,  especially  by  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Emerson :  we 
spent  the  evening  at  their  house,  enjoying  a  feast  of 
music  and  a  flow  of  soul.  The  next  morning,  Ware, 
Gushing,  Sewall,  and  Coolidge  started  for  their  homes. 
I  remained  a  day  or  two  longer,  and  then  joined  Mr. 
Benjamin  Willis,  Jr.,  of  Portland,  who  called  for  me 
on  his  way  to  Boston,  whither  he  was  going  to  be  mar 
ried  to  my  sister  Eliza.  Their  union  was  consummated 
on  the  19th  of  September.  She  was  a  bright,  beautiful, 
affectionate  girl,  and  her  departure  from  the  old  home 
left  us  all  feeling  very  sad. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BEGINS    TO    PREACH,    AND    TAKES    A    SOUTHERN 
JOUKNEY. 

TEACHES  AT  NAHANT.  —  MOTLEY,  THE  HISTORIAN,  TAUGHT  TO 
READ.  —  FIRST  PREACHING.  —  "  APPROBATED."  —  BROOK 
LYN,  CONN.  —  PREACHES  IN  NEW  YORK.  —  PREJUDICE 
AGAINST  UNITARIANISM.  —  VISITS  THE  SOUTH.  —  EEV. 
JARED  SPARKS,  AT  BALTIMORE.  —  WASHINGTON  AND  RICH 
MOND.  —  FIRST  SIGHT  OP  SLAVERY.  —  PREACHES  IN  NEW 
YORK  AGAIN.  —  ASSISTS  REV.  DR.  CHANNING.  —  THINKS 
OP  PREACHING  IN  RICHMOND,  VA. 


the  summer  of  1820,  at  the  invitation 
of  several  gentlemen  of  Boston,  I  accompanied 
them  to  Nahant,  which  had  then  become  a  favorite 
resort  in  the  hot  s'eason,  and  spent  three  months.  I 
instructed  their  children  during  the  week,  and  con 
ducted  the  exercises  of  public  worship  each  Sunday 
morning.  I  remember  that  I  enjoyed  my  little  school, 
and  that,  among  my  pupils,  were  some  boys  who  have 
since  become  distinguished  men,  —  especially  the  Rev. 
Robert  C.  Waterston,  and  the  historian,  John  Lothrop 
Motley.  The  last-named  gentleman  I  met  repeatedly 
in  Rome,  in  the  spring  of  1859.  One  evening  I  said 
to  him,  "Mr.  Motley,  I  think  I  am  entitled  to  some 
share  of  your  great  reputation."  "Well,"  said  he, 
"you  may  have  all  you  can  justly  claim;  prove  prop 
erty  and  take  it  away."  "  Why,"  I  continued,  "  have 


60  TJFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


you  forgotten  that  I  taught  you  to  read  ?  "  "  Did  you  ?  " 
he  rejoined  with  great  hilarity  ;  "  you  must  have  done  it 
well,  for  I  have  known  how  ever  since." 

As  to  my  Sunday  services,  I  presume  they  were  more 
beneficial  to  myself  than  to  anybody  else.  It  was  a 
good  opportunity  for  me  to  practise.  My  audience  was 
not  large,  seldom  more  than  thirty  or  forty  in  number, 
for  Nahant  was  not  then  what  it  has  since  become  ;  but 
they  were,  for  the  most  part,  individuals  of  refinement, 
and  my  personal  friends.  I  usually  read  a  sermon  of 
some  one  of  the  popular  preachers  who  had  then  pub 
lished  volumes  of  their  discourses.  I  took  pains,  of 
course,  to  select,  each  Sunday,  such  a  one  as  I  supposed 
would  be  edifying  to  my  hearers,  and  prepared  myself, 
us  well  as  I  could,  to  deliver  it  acceptably  and  impres 
sively.  This  was  the  principal  training  that  I  had 
for  the  pulpit.  Three  or  four  times  I  ventured  to 
deliver  sermons  of  my  own,  and  was  greatly  encouraged 
and  benefited  by  the  friendly  criticisms  that  they 
elicited. 

Early  in  the  following  December,  I  applied  to  the 
Boston  Association  for  their  "approbation"  of  me 
as  a  preacher.  They  assigned  me  Ephesians,  ii.  18, 
"Through  him  we  both  have  access  by  one  spirit  unto 
the  Father,"  as  the  text  of  a  sermon  they  wished  me  to 
write,  and  read  to  them  at  their  next  meeting,  a  fort 
night  afterwards.  I  did  as  they  required.  The  next 
meeting  was  held  at  the  house  of  Dr.  Channing.  I  read 
my  sermon,  and  received  a  certificate  of  the  clerk  of 


BEGINS  TO  P  REACH. 


61 


the  Association,  and  the  kind  congratulations  of  the 
fathers  and  brothers  in  the  ministry. 

My  first  sermon  as  an  "  approbated  "  minister  of  the 
Gospel  was  delivered  in  Springfield,  from  the  pulpit  of 
my  particular  friend,  the  late  Dr.  William  B.  O.  Peabody. 
I  started  from  Boston  the  day  after  I  had  received  the 
approval  of  the  Boston  Association.  I  rode  to  Spring 
field  in  a  chaise  with  my  friend,  the  late  Mr.  Henry 
Sterns,  then  a  merchant  in  that  town ;  and  we  were  nearly 
three  days  in  accomplishing  the  journey,  as  his  horse 
was  young,  and  he  was  unwilling  to  drive  him  more 
than  thirty-five  miles  a  day. 

Soon  after  my  return  to  Cambridge,  I  was  requested 
to  supply  the  pulpit  in  Brooklyn,  Conn.,  for  a  few 
weeks.  The  first  Unitarian  Church  in  Connecticut  was 
there  established.  It  was  composed  of  the  majority  of 
the  "  First  Ecclesiastical  Society  "  in  that  town,  which, 
under  the  preaching  of  the  Rev.  Luther  Willson,  had, 
a  few  years  before,  renounced  the  Orthodox  creed  and 
the  authority  of  the  Consociation ;  and,  after  Mr.  Will- 
son  left  them,  had  sent  to  Cambridge  for  a  preacher  of 
the  Gospel  as  it  was  understood  and  expounded  by 
Drs.  Channing,  Ware,  Worcester,  and  others.  The 
minority  had  seceded,  and  met  for  worship  in  a  hall  fitted 
up  for  their  use.  I  had  first  heard  of  this  little  Church, 
in  Hingham,  while  studying  with  Mr.  "Colman.  He  was 
one  of  the  council  called,  in  the  fall  of  1817,  to  advise 
and  comfort  this  Church  and  their  pastor,  Mr.  Willson, 


62  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

under  the  persecution  which  they  endured  for  a  while 
because  of  their  defection  from  the  faith  of  the  Conso- 
ciated  Churches  of  Connecticut.  On  his  return,  Mr. 
Colman  gave  me  a  full  and  very  interesting  account  of 
the  trials  of  this  Church  and  their  minister,  and  awak 
ened  in  my  heart  a  strong  presentiment  that  it  would  be 
given  to  me  to  serve  them  in  the  Gospel  ministry.  So 
when  the  summons  came,  in  the  winter  of  1821, 1  did 
not  hesitate  to  obey  it. 

I  went  to  Brooklyn  in  the  latter  part  of  March,  and 
preached  to  the  people  five  or  six  Sundays.     Their  zeal 
in  behalf  of  the  new  faith  which  they  had  embraced, 
and  were  endeavoring  to  maintain,  awakened  a  lively 
interest  in  their  cause ;  and  I  found  amongst  them  a  large 
proportion  of  very  intelligent  and  conscientious  Chris 
tians.     At  the  end  of  my  engagement,  the  Church  and 
Society  gave  me  a  unanimous  invitation  to  settle  with 
them  for  life.     I  could  not  at  once  and  peremptorily 
decline  their  invitation,  and  yet  dared  not  accept  it 
without  consideration  and  the  advice  of  friends.     So 
I  left  them  with  the  promise  to  give  them  an  answer  in 
the  course  of  a  few  weeks.     On  my  return  to  Boston  and 
Cambridge,  all  whom  I  consulted  concurred  with  me 
in  the  opinion  that  it  would  be  inexpedient  for  one  so 
young  and  inexperienced  to  undertake  the  ministry  in 
a  State  where  I  should  have  the  influence  of  all  the  - 
churches  and  ministers  against  me,  and  where  I  should 
have  no  brethren  of  my  own  faith  near  to  encourage 
and  help.      Accordingly,  I   addressed  a  letter  to  the 
Church    in    Brooklyn,    tenderly,    but   very   decidedly, 


BEGINS   TO   PREACH^  63 

refusing  to  become  their  pastor.  When  I  had  deposited 
my  letter  in  the  post-office,  I  said  within  myself,  "  How 
little  reliance  is  to  be  placed  upon  presentiments ! " 

On  the  17th  day  of  April,  while  I  was  staying  in 
Brooklyn,  there  fell  the  largest  amount  of  snow  I  had 
ever  seen.  The  roads  were  literally  filled  with  it,  the 
stone  walls  in  many  places  being  covered,  out  of  sight. 
The  next  day  I  was  upset  five  times  in  going  two  and  a 
half  miles  out  from  the  village  to  visit  and  comfort 
that  excellent  man,  Deacon  Roger  W.  Williams.  He 
was  declining  slowly  and  sorrowfully  to  the  grave ;  his 
heart  having  been  broken  by  the  harsh  denunciations 
and  severe  treatment  he  had  received  from  the  original 
Church  in  Brooklyn,  of  which  he  had  been  for  many 
years  a  deacon,  and  from  the  Consociation  of  Windham 
County,  with  which  that  church  was  connected. 

I  returned  to  my  rooms  in  Cambridge,  and  there 
continued  five  or  six  weeks,  —  studying,  writing  ser 
mons,  and  preaching  every  Sunday  at  Salem,  Lynn,  or 
elsewhere. 

Early  in  June,  a  message  came  from  Dr.  Channing  to 
Dr.  Ware  or  to  Stephen  Higginson,  Esq.,  the  College 
Treasurer,  —  who  took  so  lively  and  active  an  interest 
in  the  well-being  of  the  churches  and  the. well-doing 
of  the  Cambridge  divinity  students,  that  we  called  him 
" the  Town  Clerk  of  Zion"  —  a  message  came  to  one 
or  the  other  of  those  excellent  men  from  Dr.  Channing, 
that  he  found  himself  unable,  because  of  ill  health,  to 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

fulfil  his  engagement  to  preach  three  or  four  Sundays 
to   the   First   Unitarian    Church  in   New  York  City, 
then  recently  founded ;   and  that  he  wished  one  of  the 
divinity  students  to  be  sent  thither  in  his  stead.     I 
was  called  upon  to  go.     I  shrank  from  encountering  the 
disappointment  which  I  knew  the  people  of  the  New 
York  Church  would  feel  on  seeing  any  one  —  especially 
a  stripling  like  myself —  in  the  pulpit,  instead  of  Dr. 
Channing.     But  there  was  no  one  else  who  could  or 
would  go,  and  so  I  went.     We  encountered  a  fearful 
storm  upon  the  Sound,  by  which  we  were  driven  back, 
and  delayed  ten  or  twelve  hours.     However,  I  reached 
the  city  in  time,  early  Sunday  morning,  to  prepare  my 
self  for  the  services  of  the  day  ;  and  then  first  saw,  and 
preached  in,  the  neat  little  chapel  in  Chambers  Street. 
I   remained  in   New  York  four  weeks   or  longer, 
supplying  the  pulpit,  and  performing  parochial  duties 
as  well  as  I  was  able.     It  was  my  happiness  to  be 
domiciled,  the  while,  in  the  family  of  my  cousin,  Henry 
D.  Sewall,  Esq.,  who  lived  in  Franklin  Street,  then 
"  far  up  town."     Broome  and  Grand  Streets  were  then 
the  uppermost  streets ;  Canal  Street  was  not  compactly 
built  up,  and  there  were  no  omnibuses,  nor  gas-lights, 
nor  telegraphs,  nor  rail-roads.     Steam-boats  had  only 
recently  been  invented,   and   "The    Chancellor   Liv 
ingston  "  was  the  admiration  of  all  men. 

Mr.  Sewall,  one  of  the  founders  of  the  church,  was  a 
man  of  much  literary  taste  and  culture,  and,  better 
still,  of  deep  religious  sensibility.  He  gave  his  time 
and  his  heart  and  soul  to  the  cause  of  rational  and 


BEGINS  TO   PREACH.  65 

liberal  Christianity.  He  prepared  a  hymn-book  for  the 
use  of  the  worshippers  at  the  chapel,  and  it  was  a  col 
lection  vastly  superior  to  any  that  was  extant,  until  Dr. 
Greenwood  published  his,  which  was  scarcely,  if  any 
wise,  better.  Mr.  Sewall  was  encouraged  by  the 
sympathy  of  his  excellent  wife ;  and  he  was  blessed  by 
the  co-operation  of  numbers  of  rare  men  and  women. 
There  were  the  Hon.  Henry  Wheaton,  afterwards  United 
States  Minister  to  Holland,  and  author  of  some  impor 
tant  works  on  law ;  William  C.  Bryant,  the  poet,  and 
since  chi  ef-editor  of  the  "  Evening  Post ; "  Messrs.  Henry 
D.  and  Robert  H.  Sedgwick ;  and  the  Hon.  Roger  G. 
Van  Polanen,  a  Dutch  gentleman  of  learning  and  refine 
ment,  and  formerly  a  high  official  under  the  govern 
ment  of  his  own  country.  Besides  these  gentlemen 
and  their  wives,  there  was  Mrs.  Philip  Schuyler,  one  of 
the  most  dignified,  intelligent,  and  fascinating  women 
in  the  city.  She  spent  the  larger  part  of  every  winter 
in  New  York,  and  was  a  confessor  of  Unitarianism. 
Still,  although  the  church  comprised  these  and  many 
other  very  respectable  and  excellent  people,  the  pre 
judice  against  the  so-called  new  heresy  was  so  strong 
and  bitter  that  it  required  no  little  determination  and 
moral  courage  to  stand  up  against  it.  The  strangest 
stories  were  afloat  respecting  our  belief  and  our  un 
belief.  I  went  one  day  with  Mr.  Sewall  to  show  our 
chapel  to  an  intelligent  lady  of  his  acquaintance.  She 
was  pleased  with  the  building,  which  was  really  quite 
appropriate  and  tasteful.  After  examining  the  pulpit, 
outside  and  in,  "  May  I  look  at  your  Bible  ?  "  said  she. 


66 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


"Oh,  certainly,  Madam,"  was  the  reply.  She  turned 
over  the  leaves;  read  a  little  here,  and  a  little  there. 
Then  she  examined  carefully  the  title-page.  "  Why," 
she  exclaimed,  with  great  surprise,  "  it  is  the  same  as 
ours."  "  Certainly,"  we  answered,  "  and  not  only  may 
all  the  articles  of  our  faith  be  found  in  this  volume,  but 
adequately  expressed  in  the  very  words  of  Christ  and 
his  Apostles,  as  they  used  them ;  which  can  be  said  of 
the  distinctive  doctrines  of  no  other  Christian  sect 
that  we  are  acquainted  with." 

Another  day  I  was  walking  down  Broadway,  and  at 
a  bookstore  window,  near  the  Park,  saw  a  large  num 
ber  of  persons  gazing  eagerly  at  a  large  sheet  of  paper. 
I  pressed  towards  it,  and,  when  near  enough,  found  that 
it  was  an  elaborately  and  elegantly  printed  list  of  all 
the  churches  and  places  of  worship  in  the  city.  The 
Christian  churches  were  named  first,  but  ours  not 
among  them.  Then  came,  under  the  head  of  syna 
gogues,  first  the  two  or  three  Jewish ;  after  which,  at 
the  bottom  of  the  list,  was  The  Unitarian  Chapel. 
This  little  incident  affected  me  much  at  the  time, 
though  I  smile  at  it  now;  for  it  disclosed  the  mis 
apprehension,  prejudice,  and  hostility,  against  which,  as 
a  minister  of  Unitarian  Christianity,  I  should  have  to 
contend. 

At  the  expiration  of  my  term  of  service, —  another 
gentleman,  Mr.  James  Hayward,  having  been  engaged 
to  preach  to  the  church  as  a  candidate  for  settlement, — 
I  left  New  York,  in  company  with  my  sister  Louisa,  on 
a  journey  southward,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  more  of 


BEGINS  TO  PREACH.  67 

our  country  and  of  visiting  friends  in  Baltimore,  Wash 
ington,  Alexandria,  and  Richmond.  If  I  remember 
correctly,  we  went  by  steamer  to  New  Brunswick, 
thence  by  stage-coach  to  Trenton,  and  by  steamer 
again  down  the  Delaware  river  to  Philadelphia.  We 
were  the  whole  day  in  accomplishing  the  trip.  Six 
coaches  were  employed  in  taking  the  boat's  company 
of  travellers  across  New  Jersey.  We  were  so  fortunate 
as  to  be  put  into  the  foremost  coach,  in  company  with 
five  or  six  ladies  and  the  venerable  Samuel  Coates,  then 
prominent  amongst  the  patrons  and  directors  of  the 
Philadelphia  Hospital.  It  was  precisely  in  the  midst 
of  the  season  of  flowers,  when  the  high  laurels,  and  the 
magnolia,  and  tulip-trees  were  in  full  blossom.  The 
woods,  through  patches  of  which  the  road  frequently 
passed,  were  brilliant  with  their  hues  and  fragrant  with 
their  perfume.  I  alighted  twice  from  the  coach  and 
gathered  a  profusion  of  the  magnolias  and  the  laurels 
to  fill  the  laps  of  my  fellow-travellers. 

We  tarried  in  Philadelphia  until  after  the  following 
Sunday,  and  visited  the  Water-works,  the  Market,  the 
Hospital,  and  other  objects  of  special  interest.  I 
preached  on  Sunday  forenoon  and  evening  for  Mr. 
Taylor,  and  dined  and  spent  several  hours  with  him. 
I  found  him  to  be  a  Scotch  gentleman,  a  stern  religion 
ist,  an  earnest  and  somewhat  dogmatic  Unitarian. 

Early  in  the  following  week  we  proceeded  to  Balti 
more.  There  we  were  most  cordially  welcomed  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Amos  Williams,  one  of  six  brothers,  sons 
of  Capt.  Joseph  Williams,  of  Roxbury,  cousins  of  my 


68  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

father,  who,  settled  in  Baltimore  when  young  men,  had 
done  much  to  promote  the  growth  of  the  city,  had 
gained  wealth  and  social  distinction  there,  and  were 
among  the  principal  founders  and  supporters  of  the 
Unitarian  Church. 

Rev.  Jared  Sparks  was  then  the  minister  of  the  new 
church,  and  an  inmate  of  the  family  of  Mr.  Williams, 
I  passed  a  week  there  with  him,  and  learnt  how  dili 
gent  and  faithful  a  student  he  was,  and  how  active  and 
able  a  champion  of  the  Unitarian  cause.  He  was  then 
publishing  "The  Unitarian  Miscellany,"  a  monthly 
periodical  of  great  value  in  its  day,  which  was  con 
tinued  through  six  volumes,  and  the  greater  part  of  its 
contents  furnished  by  his  pen.  While  staying  with 
him,  I  wrote  an  article  on  "  A  New  Translation  of  the 
Scriptures,"  which  he  published  in  his  second  volume. 
It  is  worthy  of  note  only  as  being  the  first  composition 
I  ever  committed  to  the  press,  excepting  only,  I 
believe,  a  brief  article  on  "  Christian  Liberality,"  pub 
lished  while  with  Mr.  Peabody,  in  the  "  Springfield 
Recorder." 

I  stayed  long  enough  to  supply  Mr.  Sparks's  pulpit  one 
Sunday.  The  church,  then  recently  built,  was  peculiar 
in  its  structure,  very  expensive,  and,  after  all,  not  well 
adapted  to  its  purpose.  The  pulpit  was  surmounted  by 
a  dome,  which  seemed  to  swallow  the  voice  of  the 
speaker,  and  then  pour  it  down  again  upon  his  own 
head.  To  me  the  effect  was  very  peculiar  and  perplex 
ing.  It  seemed  as  if  the  words  I  had  just  pronounced 
fell  back  about  my  ears  like  water  from  a  shower-bath. 


BEGINS  TO  PREACH. 


69 


I  could  not  be  sure  when  I  had  uttered  the  sentence 
before  me.  Fortunately,  my  first  attempt  was  in  read 
ing  the  introductory  hymn.  I  kept  my  eyes  upon  the 
book,  and  diligently  read  aloud  each  line,  giving  as 
little  heed  to  the  sound  of  my  voice  as  possible. 
WLen  I  next  rose,  which  was  to  oifer  the  prayer,  sensi 
ble  that  I  could  neither  hear  myself  nor  be  heard  by 
others,  if  I  should  speak  as  before,  I  took  a  new  pitch, 
spoke  in  my  lowest  tone.  It  happened  to  be  just 
adapted  to  the  house,  and  I  went  through  all  the  ser 
vices  in  that  tone,  with  little  difficulty  to  myself  and 
apparently  to  the  acceptance  of  my  audience. 

Early  in  the  following  week,  my  sister  and  I  left  our 
hospitable  relatives  in  Baltimore,  for  the  city  of  Wash 
ington,  distant  thirty-five  or  forty  miles.  We  travelled 
in  the  public  stage-coach,  a  clumsy,  lumbering  vehicle, 
and  took  the  middle  seat  that  we  might  avail  ourselves 
of  the  windows  over  the  doors  to  see  as  much  as  possible 
of  the  country.  I  do  not  remember  any  thing  in  par 
ticular  that  attracted  our  attention,  excepting  one  sight 
that  moved  us  deeply  and  first  awakened  thoughts  and 
feelings  that  a  few  years  afterwards  took  shape  and 
gave  direction  to  the  whole  course  of  my  life.  We 
saw,  standing  by  the  road-side,  a  row  of  negro  men, 
twenty  or  thirty  in  number,  and  soon  perceived  that 
they  all  were  handcuffed,  and  that  the  irons  about  their 
wrists  were  fastened  around  a  very  heavy  chain  that 
was  passed  between  them  and  attached  to  the  tail  of  a 
large  wagon,  in  which  were  bundles,  apparently  of 
clothes,  and  some  young  children  lying  upon  straw. 


70  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Four  or  five  black  women  were  passing  along  the  line 
and  giving  to  each  of  the  men  a  thick  slice  of  coarse 
bread.     My  first  thought  was  that  they  were  prisoners. 
"Look,"  I  cried  to   my  sister,  "see  these  prisoners! 
What  can  they  have  been  guilty  of,  so  many  of  them?" 
Scarcely   had    I   uttered   the    words,  when    the  truth 
flashed  upon  my  mind.    "  Oh,  no !  Louisa,  they  are  slaves. 
They  have  probably  been  bought  up  by  some  slave- 
'  dealer,   and    he    is    taking   them    in    this    way  on    to 
some  more  southern  market."      We  had  heard  of  the 
abomination  of  slavery  and  the    internal   slave  trade, 
but  had  not  seen  it  before.     The  house-slaves  in  our 
kinsmen's  families  in  Baltimore  seemed  to  us  like  any 
other  domestic  servants,  and  had  excited  no  remark. 
But  here  the  monstrous  wrong  stood  palpably  before 
us.     My  sister  gave  way  to  the  expression  of  her  feel 
ings  of  horror  and  indignation,  and  I  responded  with 
all   my   heart.      "I  reckon,"  said   one  of  our  fellow- 
passengers,   "that  you   and  the   lady   are   from   New 
England."      "Yes,  sir,"  I  replied,  "and  I  never  before 
felt  so  grateful  as  I  do  now  that  I  was  not  born  where 
human  beings  can  be  bought  and  sold,  and  treated  like 
cattle ;  and  that  my  eyes  have  not  been  accustomed  to 
such  sights  as  that.  \A  am  ashamed  of  my  country  and 
of  my  race."     My  earnest  manner  of  speaking,  and  yet 
more  the  deep  emotions  of  my  sister,  evidently  touched 
the  chords  of  a  common  humanity  in  the  hearts  of  cur 
fellow-travellers.     There  was  silence  for  a  few  minutes, 
when  the  gentleman  said,  "  I  do  not  wonder  you  feel 
so.     It  is  bad.     It  is  shameful.     But  it  was  entailed 


BEGINS  TO  PREACH \ 

upon  us.  What  can  we  do?"  I  did  not  then  know 
how  to  answer  the  question.  So  we  said  little  more 
upon  the  subject.  And  we  jogged  on,  in  saddened 
mood,  to  the  Capital  of  our  Republic. 

Here,  too,  were  resident  several  of  our  relatives 
Dr.  Frederick  May  and  Dr.  George  W.  May.      The 
former,  at  whose  house  we  were  cordially  invited  to 
stay,  was  a  physician  of  eminence  ;  the  latter,  a  much 
younger  man,  just  getting  into  a  good  practice. 

We  tarried  there  a  week,  visiting  our  friends  and  the 
public  buildings,  which  were  then  fewer  and  much 
smaller  than  they  are  now;  and,  of  course,  Mount 
Vernon,  which  was  then  in  a  very  much  better  state 
of  preservation  than  when  I  last  was  there,  in  1856. 

A  small  body  of  Unitarians  had  recently  gathered 
themselves  into  a  church,  and  had  fitted   up   a  hall, 
capable  of  holding   three   hundred   people,   over   the 
public  baths,  for  their  place  of  meeting.      I  was  in 
vited  to  preach  to  them,  and  did  so  one  Sunday.     Just 
after  I  had  taken  my  seat  in  the  pulpit,  I  was  surprised 
and  delighted  to  see  the  Hon.  John  Quincy  Adams 
walk  modestly  up  .the  aisle,  and  take  a  seat  in  a  con 
spicuous  place.     I  was  told  he  seldom  foiled  to  be  there. 
He  was  at  the  time  Secretary  of  State,  and  an  aspirant 
to  the  Presidency.     Yet  he  shunned  not  to  declare  his 
faith  in  the  doctrines  of  Unitarian   Christianity,  then 
"everywhere    spoken    against,"    and    after    the    way 
which   most   men   call  heresy  he  publicly  worshipped 
the  God  of  his  fathers.     I  record  this  to  his  praise,  as 
his  conduct  in  this  respect  contrasted  most  honorably 


72  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

with  that  of  too  many  of  the  prominent  men  of  that 
day,  who  were  Unitarians  in  New  England,  but  avoided 
the  odium  of  that  sect  in  Washington,  by  attending 
one  or  the  other  of  the  fashionable  churches. 

The  next  day,  Louisa  and  myself  proceeded  to 
Alexandria,  there  to  visit  a  very  dear  friend,  since 
dead.  I  tarried  only  until  Thursday;  and  then,  leaving 
my  sister  to  divide  the  time  of  my  absence  between 
our  friends  in  Alexandria  and  Washington,  I  went  on 
by  stage  coach  to  Richmond,  there  to  see  the  remnants 
of  the  Jewish  family,  spoken  of  in  the  early  part  of 
my  memoirs,  my  excellent  friends  Catherine  and 
Slowey  Hays. 

My  stay  in  Richmond  was  short,  not  exceeding  a 
week ;  and  I  returned  to  Washington  in  the  same  way 
that  I  went.  My  stage  companion  for  the  first  few 
hours,  or  the  only  one  whom  I  remember,  was  Judge 
Brock.  He  did  not  seem  much  inclined  to  conversa 
tion.  Once,  as  we  were  passing  by  a  large  cornfield,  I 
observed  a  black  woman  hoeing.  She  was  wretchedly 
clad,  and  looked  squalid  and  woe-begone.  Involun 
tarily  I  expressed  the  offence  that  the  sight  gave  me, 
adding  that  I  was  thankful  I  lived  in  a  part  of  the 
country  where  such  sights  of  enforced  degradation 
were  not  to  be  seen.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  with  considerable 
severity  of  manner,  "northern  men  will  not  be  per 
mitted  to  speak  so  freely  and  reproachfully  of  our  institu* 
tions,  about  which  they  know  so  little."  Of  course  I 
waived  the  subject,  for  he  was  a  much  older  ma:  than 
myself;  and  we  talked  but  little  to  each  other  after 
wards. 


BEGINS  TO  PREACH.  T3 

Before  reaching  New  York  on  my  return,  I  accepted 
an  invitation  from  the  committee  of  the  Unitarian 
Church  to  preach  to  them  again,  three  or  four  Sundays. 
I  was  entertained  during  my  stay  at  the  house  of  Mr. 
Henry  D.  Sedgwick,  who  then  resided  in  Cedar  Street. 
His  excellent  wife  was  Miss  Jane  Minot,  whom  I  had 
known  from  my  early  childhood.  She  was  the  only 
daughter  of  Judge  Minot,  of  Boston,  whose  pew  at  the 
King's  Chapel  was  very  near  my  father's.  I  resided  in 
their  family  three  weeks  or  more,  and  have  every  reason 
to  remember  it  with  pleasure.  While  there,  I  became 
somewhat  acquainted  with  Miss  Catherine  Sedgwick, 
who  has  since  attained  so  high  a  place  amongst  Ameri 
can  authors.  She  had  just  then  published  her  first 
work,  "  The  New  England  Tale ; "  and  I  well  remem 
ber  with  what  intense  interest  her  brothers,  Henry 
and  Robert,  awaited  its  reception  by  the  public. 

On  my  return  to  Boston,  I  gave  up  my  room  in  Cam 
bridge,  and  removed  my  books  and  study  furniture  to 
my  father's  house  in  Federal  Court.  After  preaching  a 
few  weeks  at  Salem,  Lynn,  and  elsewhere,  I  was  invited 
by  the  committee  of  the  Church  in  Federal  Street  to 
assist  Dr.  Channing,  whose  health  was  very  feeble,  one 
month.  At  the  close  of  the  first  engagement,  I  was 
requested  to  renew  it  for  three  months  more,  which  I 
did.  The  arrangement  was,  that  I  should  supply  the 
pulpit  half  of  each  Sunday,  and  hold  myself  in  readi 
ness  to  take  the  Doctor's  place  at  any  time  when  he 

should  feel  too  feeble  to  preach.    It  was,  as  I  found,  a 
4 


74  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

trying  situation;  for  in  several  instances  the  people 
came  to  hear  Dr.  Channing,  then  at  the  height  of  his 
fame  as  a  preacher,  and  were  put  off  with  the  best  that 
I  could  do  in  his  stead.  Nevertheless,  this  engagement 
brought  me  into  an  intimate  relation  to  the  man,  whom 
I  venerated  as  much  as  any  one  I  had  then  known.  I 
remember  him  and  his  great  kindness  to  rne  with 
unfeigned  respect  and  gratitude.  His  wise  and  friendly 
criticisms  of  my  sermons  and  prayers  were  invaluable 
to  me.  And  he  did  much  to  improve  my  manner  of 
reading  hymns,  in  which  he  himself  excelled. 

There  was  at  that  time  an  association  of  the  leading 
men  of  his  church,  which  met  once  a  week  for  mutual 
religious  improvement,  and  to  consult  together  about 
plans  of  usefulness.  It  was  my  privilege  to  meet  with 
them,  and  listen  to  their  conversations,  which  were 
always  upon  high  themes,  and  often  called  fro'm  the 
Doctor  his  happiest  and  most  precious  utterances.  I 
remember  it  was  at  one  of  these  meetings,  after  theatres 
and  public  amusements  had  been  the  subject  under  con 
sideration  for  several  evenings,  that  the  question  was 
raised  whether  popular  lectures  upon  literary  and 
scientific  subjects  might  not  be  made  very  attractive, 
as  well  as  useful,  to  very  many  who  frequented  the 
theatre  and  balls  for  the  want  of  some  better  occasions 
for  social  enjoyment.  Several  doubted  whether  such 
lectures  would  be  largely  attended,  but  the  majority 
believed  that  a  great  many  people  would  be  eager  to 
avail  themselves  of  such  opportunities  to  acquire  useful 
and  entertaining  knowledge.  If  I  am  not  mistaken, 


BEGINS  TO  PREACH. 

this  was  one  of  the  earliest  movements  that  led  to  the 
institution  of  courses  of  public  lectures,  —  the  Lyceum 
and  the  Lowell  Institute. 

At  the  close  of  my  term  of  service  as  Dr.  Channing's 
temporary  assistant,  some  time  in  the  winter  of  1822, 
Rev.  Orville  Dewey  was  invited  to  take  the  same 
position. 

While  in  Baltimore  after  my  return  from  Richmond, 
in  July,  1821,  I  conferred  with  Mr.  Sparks  upon  the 
practicability  of  gathering  a  Unitarian  Church  in  that 
city.  In  January  of  1822  I  received  a  letter  from  him, 
proposing  that  we  should  soon  commence  the  enter 
prise.  We  entered  into  an  arrangement  that,  soon 
after  the  close  of  the  session  of  Congress,  of  which  he 
was  then  one  of  the  chaplains,  I  should  come  to  Balti 
more  and  supply  his  pulpit  two  or  three  Sundays,  that 
he  might  go  to  Richmond,  make  a  reconnoissance,  and 
ascertain  whether  there  were  persons  enough  there, 
favorably  disposed,  to  warrant  my  following  him  and 
commencing  the  foundation  of  a  Church.  How  differ 
ent  might  have  been  my  course  in  life,  if  this  plan  had 
been  carried  into  operation !  It  does  not  seem  possible ; 
but  I  might  have  become  reconciled,  to  slavery,  or  so 
overborne  by  the  influence  of  slaveholders  as  to  have 
been  awed  into  silence  respecting  the  great  abomina 
tion,  "  the  sum  of  all  villanies."  On  the  whole,  I  am 
grateful  to  the  Sovereign  Disposer  of  events  that  I 
was  withheld  from  the  great  temptation. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

BROOKLYN,  CONN. 

His  REASONS  FOB  GOING  TO  BROOKLYN.  —  ORDAINED  IN  Bos- 
TON.  —  BROOKLYN  AND  THE  PARISH. —  INSTALLED.  —  A 
CHILD'S  PROTEST  AGAINST  REV.  DR.  FREEMAN'S  CHARGE. 

—  PROBABLE     ROBBER.  —  SCHOOLS    OP    CONNECTICUT.  — 
MARRIES.  —  ECCLESIASTICAL  USAGES.  —  VIEWS  OF  SUNDAY. 

—  His    ONLY    SILK    GOWN    AND    BANDS.  —  THE    LORD'S 
SUPPER.  —  IMMERSION.  —  THE     TRINITARIAN     CHURCH.  — 
REFUSES    CHAPLAINCY    OF    A    REGIMENT. —DECLINES    TO 
PKAY  AT  A  HANGING. 

TUST  after  the  above  arrangement  was  made,  about 
*J  the  middle  of  the  month  of  February,  I  was  com 
ing  out  of  my  father's  house,  on  the  way  to  the  post- 
office  with  a  letter  to  Mr.  Sparks  upon  the  subject,  when 
lo !  at  the  door  I  met  Mr.  John  Parish  and  Mr.  Her 
bert  Williams,  a  committee  from  the  Church  in  Brook 
lyn,  Conn.,  sent  to  insist  upon  my  becoming  their  minis 
ter.  They  were  so  earnest,  so  importunate,  said  so  much 
about  the  importance  of  maintaining  the  first  Unitarian 
Church  in  Connecticut,  about  the  critical  position  of 
their  little  band,  and  of  the  unanimity  of  their  choice 
of  me  to  be  their  pastor,  that  I  could  not  but  feel  that 
theirs  was  indeed  a  loud  call  to  me,  in  the  providence 
of  God,  to  undertake  the  work  of  an  evangelist  in  the 
most  "  Orthodox  "  State  in  New  England.  The  above- 
named  good  men  waited  a  day  or  two  for  my  answer. 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.  77 

I  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  night  in  revolving  the 
question  in  my  mind,  arguing  pro  and  con  in  the 
court  of  conscience.  My  father  and  mother  strenuously 
opposed  my  accepting  the  invitation  to  Brooklyn. 
They  could  see  only  conflict,  hard  work  and  poverty, 
before  me  there.  All  the  friends  whom  I  consulted 
concurred  with  them  in  advising  me  to  refuse.  Even 
Mr.  George  Cabot,  whose  opinion  I  greatly  respected, 
argued  and  urged  to  the  same  effect.  Still,  I  could  not 
dispel  from  my  heart  the  conviction  that  it  was  my 
duty  to  take  up  the  work  which  seemed  to  be  given  me 
to  do.  I  remembered  the  principle  which  I  had  always 
insisted,  in  conversations  with  my  fellow-students,  ought 
to  govern  a  young  minister  in  the  selection  of  his  field 
of  labor.  I  had  often  denounced  the  too  common  say 
ing,  that  the  loudest  call  came  from  the  city  churches, 
or  from  those  which  would  pay  the  largest  salaries. 
So,  after  earnest  and  prayerful  consideration,  I  deter 
mined  to  accept  the  invitation  from  Brooklyn,  and 
informed  the  committee  that  I  would  make  the  trial  for 
a  year. 

In  order  that  I  might  exercise  at  once  all  the  func 
tions  of  a  pastor,  —  administer  the  ordinances,  as  well 
as  conduct  the  services  of  public  worship, — it  was 
thought  advisable  that  I  should  receive  ordination 
before  leaving  Boston.  Accordingly  I  applied  to  the 
Churches  of  the  Boston  Association,  to  be  ordained  by 
them.  My  request  was  promptly  granted ;  and  the  14th 
day  of  March,  at  Thursday  Lecture,  was  appointed  to 
be  the  time  for  the  customary  services. 


78  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

On  the  5th  of  March,  our  family  were  plunged  into 
a  deep  affliction.  My  sister,  Eliza  Sewall,  —  then  the 
wife  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Willis,  of  Portland, — who  had 
been  sick  several  weeks,  suddenly  died,  leaving  a  son 
and  a  daughter,  both  less  than  five  years  of  age.  On 
the  same  day,  my  father's  venerable  and  excellent 
uncle,  Joseph  Williams,  of  Roxbury,  departed,  in  a 
good  old  age.  I  had  spent  many  happy  days  and 
weeks  in  his  family ;  and,  though  to  him  the  event  was 
a  release  from  the  burdens  of  life,  to  us  it  left  a  sad 
void.  These  bereavements,  especially  the  loss  of  my 
sister,  made  us  all  the  more  sad  as  we  went  on  with 
the  preparations  for  my  removal  to  what  was  then  a 
long  distance,  eighty  miles  by  stage-coaches,  from  the 
old  home. 

My  mother  got  home  from  Portland  on  the  13th, 
just  in  time  to  witness  my  ordination  as  an  evangelist, 
in  Chauncy  Place  Church.  Rev.  Dr.  Freeman  preached 
the  sermon,  President  Kirkland  gave  the  Charge,  and 
Rev.  Henry  Ware,  Jr.,  gave  the  Right  Hand  of  Fellow 
ship. 

The  next  day  I  left  home  for  Brooklyn,  via  Provi 
dence,  and  reached  there  Saturday  afternoon.  On 
Sunday,  the  17th,  I  commenced  my  labors  as  minister 
of  "  the  First  Ecclesiastical  Society  of  Brooklyn,  Con 
necticut." 

I  found  the  Society,  comprising  about  forty  families, 
made  up  of  some  of  the  most  sensible  and  respectable 
people  in  the  town.  All  but  half  a  dozen  were  plain 
farmers,  living  on  good  farms,  some  of  which  their 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.  79 

grandfathers,  or  remoter  ancestors,  had  purchased  of 
the  Indians,  and  reclaimed  from  the  forest. 

The  village  of  Brooklyn  was  rather  a  pretty  one.  A 
few  years  before,  it  had  been  made  the  county  seat ;  so 
that  there  were  the  court-house  and  jail,  and  sundry 
hotels  and  stores,  and  a  printing-office.  It  was  the 
residence  formerly  of  General  Israel  Putnam,  of  Revo 
lutionary  fame,  and  had  been  beautified  somewhat  by 
his  taste,  or  the  taste  of  some  of  his  family,  who  had 
bet  out  rows  of  elm  and  maple  trees  on  either  side  of 
the  principal  street,  which,  when  I  went  there,  were 
well  grown,  so  as  to  cover  the  road  with  their  shade. 
The  general's  house  was  still  standing ;  and  the  arm, 
from  which  used  to  swing  his  tavern-sign,  remained  in 
the  crotch  of  the  principal  tree  in  front,  and  directly 
opposite  the  steeple  end  of  our  meeting-house.  That 
structure  was  becoming  venerable.  It  had  been  stand 
ing  more  than  fifty  years,  and  was  built  after  the  New 
England  fashion  of  that  day,  —  a  tall,  slender  spire,  and, 
as  it  seemed  to  me,  more  than  commonly  graceful,  sur 
mounted  by  a  weather-cock,  that  once  was  gilded. 

Although  I  engaged  only  for  a  year,  I  soon  came  to 
feel  that  Brooklyn  was  probably  to  be  my  field  of  labor 
for  life,  and  I  reconciled  myself  to  it.  I  set  about 
earnestly  and  prayerfully  the  work  that  was  given  me 
to  do.  In  addition  to  the  regular  services  of  each 
Sunday,  for  which  I  was  left  to  provide  alone,  with 
very  seldom  the  relief  of  an  exchange,  I  instituted  a 
weekly  meeting  at  the  houses  of  my  parishioners,  where 
we  conversed  for  an  hour  or  two  on  the  fundamental 


80  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

doctrines  and  duties  of  Christianity,  and  I  read  to  them 
selections  on  the  subjects  under  consideration,  from  the 
writings  of  our  best  authors. 

The  opposition  of  my  Orthodox  neighbors  was  less 
violent  and  unfair  than  I  expected.  Still,  there  were 
busily  circulated  throughout  the  community  grievous 
misrepresentations  of  the  faith  and  the  spirit  of  Unita 
rians.  I  perceived  that  these  could  not  be  overtaken 
and  corrected  merely  by  my  preaching  to  those  who 
would  come  to  hear  me.  Accordingly,  early  in  January, 
1823,  I  commenced  the  publication  of  a  small  paper, 
entitled  "  The  Liberal  Christian,"  which  was  published 
somewhat  more  than  a  year,  once  a  fortnight,  eight 
pages  small  quarto.  Upon  the  pages  of  this  periodical 
I  spread  out  before  my  neighbors  throughout  that 
region  explicit  statements  of  our  doctrines,  and  argu 
ments  in  support  of  them.  My  labor  was  not  for 
naught.  I  received  assurances  and  proofs  that  it  did 
good ;  and  it  brought  to  my  acquaintance  numbers  of 
persons  living  in  different  parts  of  the  county  and  the 
State,  some  of  whom  embraced  the  doctrines  of  Unita 
rians,  and  all  of  whom  were  disposed  to  encourage 
religious  inquiry,  and  maintain  their  freedom. 

I  had  not  been  preaching  many  weeks,  before  my 
attention  was  arrested  by  a  staid,  sensible-looking  gen 
tleman  and  lady,  who  came  to  church  several  Sundays, 
and  whose  countenances  were  radiant  with  the  interest 
they  took  in  what  they  heard.  Very  soon,  they  were 
introduced  to  me  as  Squire  Sharpe  and  his  wife,  of 
Abington,  a  part  of  Pomfret,  —  the  Hon.  George  Sharpe, 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.  81 

lately  a  member  of  the  Senate  of  Connecticut.  I  con 
fess  to  not  a  little  exultation  at  seeing  frequently  in  my 
audience  these  persons  from  a  neighboring  town,  who 
were  acknowledged  of  all  men  to  be  persons  of  very 
sound  sense  and  of  elevated  moral  character.  And 
when  they  "  took  a  pew,"  and  actually  joined  the  Society, 
it  was  considered  a  great  acquisition.  They  became  my 
parishioners,  and  cordially  invited  me  to  visit  them, 
which  it  became  my  official  duty,  as  well  as  pleasu.  e, 
to  do. 

Soon  after,  I  was  walking  one  afternoon  towards  that 
quarter  of  Brooklyn  which  adjoined  Abington,  when 
I  saw,  descending  a  long  hill,  a  large  charcoal-cart, 
driven  by  a  man  whose  contour  and  gait  seemed  to  be 
that  of  my  new  friend,  the  Hon.  Mr.  Sharpe.  I  could 
not  think  it  possible ;  for  I  was  a  city  boy,  and  had  not 
been  accustomed  to  seeing  gentlemen  —  members  of 
the  Legislature,  honorable  senators  —  dressed  in  frocks, 
working  like  day-laborers,  especially  as  colliers,  upon 
whom  in  Boston  I  had  been  wont  to  look  as  a  very  low 
class.  But  the  nearer  we  drew  to  each  other,  the  more 
evident  it  became  that  my  new  and  honorable  friend 
was  the  collier  before  me.  I  remembered  Burns's 
poem,  "  a  man's  a  man  for  a'  that,"  and  braced  myself 
up  for  the  occasion.  When  near  enough,  we  saluted 
each  other,  and  I  drew  off  my  glove  to  shake  hands 
with  him.  "  Oh,  no ! "  said  he,  with  a  hearty  smile,  "  I 
never  give  my  hand  to  a  friend,  when  it  is  so  dirty. 
My  brother  and  I  wish  to  clear  up  a  four-acre  wood-lot, 
that  we  may  plant  it.  The  best  way  to  dispose  of  the 

F  4* 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

wood  is  to  reduce  it  to  coal :  and  we  long  since  learnt 
the  wisdom  of  Dr.  Franklin's  maxim,  4  If  you  would 
have  any  thing  done  well,  you  must  do  it  yourself; ' 
so  we  have  gone  into  it.  It  is  a  dirty  job,  but  we  shall 
get  through  in  three  or  four  weeks,  and  then  you  must 
come  and  visit  us."  We  parted,  I  a  wiser  and  stronger 
man ;  having  learnt  that  no  labor  is  degrading,  and  that 
it  is  not  the  exterior  that  makes  the  man. 

The  members  of  the  Society,  though  assured  of  my 
willingness  to  remain  permanently  with  them,  were 
desirous  of  putting  an  end  to  the  rumor  often  sent 
through  the  community,  "Mr.  May  is  about  to  leave 
the  Brooklyn  Church."  Moreover,  they  were  confi 
dent  that  the  services  of  an  installation,  conducted 
by  some  of  the  most  distinguished  men  of  our  denom 
ination,  would  make  a  salutary  impression  upon  the 
public  mind.  I  therefore  yielded  to  their  wishes. 

The  installation  took  place  on  the  5th  of  November, 
1823.  Rev.  Dr.  Bancroft,  of  Worcester,  was  the  mod 
erator  of  the  council ;  Rev.  Dr.  Lowell,  of  Boston,  was 
the  scribe.  Rev.  Luther  Willson,  of  Petersham,  the 
former  pastor,  offered  the  introductory  prayer;  Rev. 
James  Walker,  of  Charlestown,  preached  the  sermon ; 
Rev.  Dr.  Freeman  gave  the  Charge ;  Rev.  William 
B.  O.  Peabody,  of  Springfield,  gave  the  Right  Hand  of 
Fellowship ;  Rev.  Dr.  Thayer,  of  Lancaster,  addressed 
the  people ;  and  Dr.  Parkman,  of  Boston,  offered  the 
concluding  prayer. 

The   audience   was   as   large   as  the  meeting-house 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.  83 

would  comfortably  hold,  and  the  impression  made  upon 
them  was  obviously  favorable  and  strong.  Historical 
truth  requires  me  to  make  one  exception.  A  little  girl 
about  six  years  old,  who  was  very  fond  of  m*e,  and  one 
of  my  pets,  was  much  offended  at  the  Charge.  Dr. 
Freeman's  manner  was  solemn  and  earnest.  She  was 
very  intent  upon  him  for  a  few  minutes,  then,  bursting 
into  tears,  she  rushed  out  of  the  house,  crying  quite 
aloud,  "  That  old  man  is  scolding  my  dear  Mr.  May, 
and  I  won't  hear  him  any  more." 

With  the  new  impetus  thus  given  me,  I  pressed  for 
ward  in  the  way  of  my  duty.  Regarding  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  as  the  best  teacher  of  Christianity,  I  deter 
mined  to  make  his  words  and  his  character  the  standard 
of  my  faith  and  practice. 

Dr.  Noah  Worcester  had  fixed  my  attention  upon  the 
teachings  and  example  of  Christ,  in  respect  to  evil 
doers,  violent,  injurious  persons,  and  personal  enemies. 
His  "  Solemn  Review  of  the  Custom  of  War,"  and  his 
articles  in  the  "Friend  of  Peace,"  bad  convinced  me 
that  the  precepts,  spirit,  and  example  of  Jesus  gave  no 
warrant  to  the  violent,  bloody  resistance  of  evil ;  that 
wrong  could  be  effectually  overcome  only  by  right, 
hatred  by  love,  violence  by  gentleness,  evil  of  any  kind 
only  by  its  opposite  good.  I  preached  this  as  one  of 
the  cardinal  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  and  endeavored 
especially  to  show  the  wickedness  and  folly  of  the  cus 
tom  of  war. 

An  incident  occurred  which  enabled  me  to  put  in 
practice  this  principle.  As  some  uncertainty  hanga 


84  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

over  it,  I  should  not  record  it,  were  it  not  that  the 
story  has  been  often  told  by  others,  sometimes  even 
from  the  pulpit,  and  published,  with  more  or  less  exag 
geration.  I  shall  now  therefore  state  the  facts,  exactly 
as  I  have  always  stated  them,  and  leave  others  to  make 
out  of  them  whatever  may  seem  probable. 

Early  in  the  summer  of  1824  I  went  to  Springfield, 
to  visit  my  friends  there,  and  to  exchange  with  my 
friend  Peabody.  I  travelled  by  Mr.  Herbert  Williams's 
horse  and  chaise,  and  had  brought  his  wife  or  his  sisters, 
on  the  way,  to  visit  their  relatives  in  Leicester.  On  my 
return,  wishing  to  travel  from  Springfield  to  Leicester 
(about  fifty  miles)  in  the  course  of  the  day,  without 
tasking  my  borrowed  horse  too  severely,  I  started  before 
four  o'clock,  A.M.  When  about  half-way  across  Wilbra- 
ham  Plain,  —  three  or  four  miles  from  any  inhabitants, 
and  near  the  spot  where  a  Mr.  Lyon  had  been  robbed 
and  murdered  a  few  months  before,  —  I  espied  a  man 
in  the  road  before  me,  whose  appearance  and  manners 
I  did  not  like,  and  who  seemed  to  be  a  less  desirable 
acquaintance  the  nearer  I  drew  to  him.  He  was  ill- 
dressed,  and  his  clothes  looked  as  if  he  had  slept  upon 
the  ground.  He  carried  in  his  hand  a  short,  heavy 
stick,  or  bludgeon,  and  was  lingering,  or  walking  very 
slowly,  through  a  patch  of  dense  woods.  He  looked 
round  at  me  occasionally,  as  if  waiting  for  me  to  come 
up.  My  apprehension  was  that  he  intended  to  strike 
down  my  horse,  and  then  attack  me.  The  fear  may 
have  been  wholly  without  foundation,  but  I  acted  as  if 
that  were  really  his  intention.  Just  before  my  horse's 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.  85 

head  came  within  reach  of  his  bludgeon,  I  stopped  and 
said,  "  Friend,  you  are  going  my  way :  will  you  not  ride 
with  me  ?  "  He  hesitated,  was  embarrassed,  and  then 
replied,  "  Don't  care  if  I  do."  "  Well,  then,"  I  contin 
ued,  "  come  round  on  this  side  and  get  into  the  chaise." 
He  did  so,  and  we  jogged  on  together.  It  was  some 
time  before  I  could  get  any  thing  out  of  him.  He 
looked  like  a  bad  man,  but  did  not  seem  like  a  very 
ignorant  one.  He  was  a  Scotchman,  or  from  the  north 
of  England.  Whither  he  was  going,  what  was  the 
object  of  his  journey,  —  I  could  not  learn.  So  I  talked 
to  him  on  various  subjects,  suggested  by  the  objects 
that  we  passed,  until  at  length  he  became  more  easy 
and  communicative.  About  eleven  o'clock  I  stopped, 
intending  to  give  my  horse  a  long  rest,  and  in  due 
time  to  get  some  dinner.  I  invited  my  fellow-traveller 
into  the  hotel  with  me,  and  said  he  should  be  welcome 
to  dine  with  me  if  he  would.  He  declined,  slunk  away, 
and  kept  out  of  sight,  until  at  one  o'clock,  when  I  came 
out,  he  was  there,  and  resumed  his  seat  by  my  side. 
The  afternoon  ride  passed  very  much  as  the  morning 
had  done.  My  suspicions  of  his  ill  intention  toward 
me  faded  from  my  mind,  and  I  rested  in  the  conclusion 
that  he  was  only  a  poor,  unfortunate  man  who  did  not 
choose  to  make  a  confidant  of  a  stranger,  and  so  held 
himself  in  reserve.  Between  five  and  six,  P.M.,  we 
reached  the  village  of  Leicester.  Pointing  to  Dr.  Nel 
son's  house,  half  a  mile  off  to  the  left,  I  said  to  my 
companion,  "  Well,  sir,  we  must  part  here,  for  I  am  going 
to  stay  at  that  place  to-night."  If  he  had  only  replied 


86 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


in  some  common  way,  —  if  he  had  said,  "  Thank  you,  sir," 
or  "  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  you  have  done  me  a 
great  kindness,"—  I  should  never  have  thought  more  of 
the  occurrence  than  that  I  had  helped  a  poor,  wayfaring 
man  some  forty-five  or  fifty  miles  over  his  road.  But 
he  got  out  of  the  chaise,  took  hold  of  the  handle  of  the 
dasher,  and,  looking  earnestly  at  me,  said,  with  empha 
sis  and  emotion,  "  Thank  you,  sir :  you  probably  never 
will  know  the  benefit  you  have  conferred  upon  me  to 
day."  Instantly,  the  impression  his  first  appearance  in 
the  morning  made  upon  me  was  revived.  I  felt  sure 
that  he  had  intended  me  harm,  and  that  I  had  averted 
his  evil  purpose.  He  turned  off  into  an  opposite  road, 
and  walked  rapidly  away.  I  longed  to  ask  him  what  he 
meant  by  his  peculiar  words  and  emphasis,  but  I  was  with 
held.  So  he  went  away,  carrying  his  secret  with  him. 

I  had  heard  much  of  the  common  schools  of  Connec 
ticut,  and  of  the  large  fund  by  which  they  were  sup 
ported.  So  I  went  to  reside  in  that  State,  expecting  to 
find  the  system  of  public  instruction  there  the  best,  as 
well  as  the  most  popular,  of  any  in  our  country.  I  very 
soon  began  to  pay  attention  to  the  education  of  the 
young;  and  soon  after  my  installation,  by  which  the 
people  were  assured  that  I  had  become  a  permanent 
resident  amongst  them,  they  elected  me  to  be  one  of  the 
town  school  committee.  In  that  office  I  continued  so 
long  as  I  lived  in  Connecticut ,  for  it  was  customary  in 
that,  as  in  all  the  New. England  States,  to  commit  the 
care  of  the  schools  to  the  ministers  of  religion. 


BROOKLYN,   CONN. 


87 


I  determined  to  do  my  duty  as  well  as  I  knew  how. 
So  I  informed  myself  thoroughly  of  the  condition  of 
the  schools,  —  the  houses,  furniture,  books,  and,  above 
all,  the  qualifications  of  the  teachers.  In  all  respects  I 
was  disappointed,  and  did  not  conceal  my  feeling  of 
dissatisfaction ;  and  even  ventured  to  express  the  opin 
ion  that  the  School  Fund  was  not  operating  to  increase, 
but  rather  to  diminish,  the  popular  interest  in  the 
schools. 

My  associates  upon  the  committee  were  anxious  to 
improve  the  character  of  the  schools  in  Brooklyn.  In 
the  first  place,  we  proposed  to  make  the  examination  of 
candidates  for  the  office  of  teachers  more  thorough  and 
real,  so  as  to  keep  out  all  such  as  were  undoubtedly 
incompetent.  The  first  winter  we  rejected  six  who 
offered  themselves,  so  that  we  examined  fifteen  teachers 
to  supply  our  nine  schools.  The  next  year  we  rejected 
four.  This  brought  upon  the  school  committee  the 
reputation  of  being  "mighty  strict,"  and  kept  away 
many  who  were  conscious  of  their  incompetency. 

On  the  1st  of  June,  1825,  I  was  married  to  Lucretia 
Flagge  Coffin,  second  daughter  of  Peter  Coffin,  Esq., 
of  Boston.  She  was  born  in  Portsmouth,  N.H.,  where 
her  father  was  a  merchant  until  1810  or  1812,  when  he 
removed  to  Boston.  Her  mother  was  Anne  Martin,  a 
daughter  of  Thomas  Martin,  whose  father  was  a  Hugue 
not.  We  lived  in  a  hired  house  upon  Brooklyn  Green, 
until  the  fall  of  1828,  when  the  house  was  sold,  and  we 
returned  to  board  in  the  family  of  Mr.  John  Parish. 


88 


LIFE  OP  SAMUEL  J.  MAT. 


I  so  ight  to  learn  the  whole  "  Truth  as  it  is  in 
Jesus,"  from  the  words  and  the  life  of  the  Teacher 
himself. 

It  soon  seemed  to  me  that  Christianity  had  been 
encumbered  with  many  dogmas  that  really  had  nothing 
to  do  with  it,  and  that,  notwithstanding  Christ's  reproofs 
of  pharisaism,  the  Church  Btill  cared  more  for  "the 
mint,  anise,  and  cummin"  of  ceremonial  observances 
than  for  "the  weightier  matters  of  the  Law,"  — the 
keeping  holy  the  Sabbath  day,  partaking  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  and  submitting  to  the  ordinance  of  baptism, 
more  than  doing  justly,  loving  mercy,  and  walking 
humbly.  I  conformed  for  a  year  or  two  to  "  the  usages 
of  the  Church,"  without  questioning  any  of  them.  I 
saw  them  to  be  good  in  themselves,  or  that  they  might 
be  so,  as  me  ins  and  instruments  of  spiritual  culture ; 
but  mischievous,  worthless,  when  regarded,  as  they  too 
generally  seemed  to  be,  as  the  essentials  of  religion. 

I  valued  the  Sabbath  as  a  day  of  rest  from  the  ordi 
nary  cares  of  life ;  of  sacred  leisure  secured  to  us  by  the 
religious  institution  of  the  Jewish  law-givers,  adopted 
from  that  by  the  founders  of  the  Christian  Church,  and 
perpetuated  by  the  consent  of  almost  all  the  sects.  I 
felt  and  preached  that  the  time,  thus  wrested  from  the 
secular  concerns  of  life,  ought  to  be  by  each  one  assid 
uously  consecrated  to  his  religious  improvement.  But 
I  saw  and  deplored  the  effect  of  the  superstitious 
notions,  still  prevalent  in  Connecticut,  respecting  the 
sacredness  of  the  day  itself,  and  of  the  strict  observance 
of  it  that  was  rigidly  enforced.  One  of  the  charges 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.  89 

alleged  by  his  opponents  against  my  predecessor,  Rev. 
Luther  Willson,  was  that,  on  a  certain  Saturday  even 
ing,  having  reached  home  from  a  journey,  after  sun 
down,  and  finding  that  his  family  were  destitute  of  such 
wood  as  could  be  burned  in  their  fireplaces,  he  sawed 
and  split  up  enough  to  last  until  Monday  !  The  austere 
and  gloomy  aspect  given  to  the  day,  and  to  the  whole 
of  religion,  made  Sunday  repulsive,  especially  to  the 
young.  A  little  boy,  about  six  years  of  age,  —  Samuel 
S.  Greeley,  my  nephew,  who  lived  several  months  in 
my  family  after  the  death  of  his  excellent  mother,  — 
said  to  me  one  Sunday,  "  Uncle,  I  hate  Sunday,  I  do ; 
it  is  a  wooden  day."  This  led  me  to  think  much  of  the 
better  way  of  employing  the  time  of  children  on  the 
Sabbath.  To  this  conclusion  I  came,  and  have  acted 
upon  it,  as  far  as  I  have  been  able,  ever  since ;  viz.,  it  is 
incumbent  upon  all  who  have  the  care  of  children  to  de 
vote  a  suitable  portion  of  every  Sunday  to  their  thorough 
religious  instruction.  When  presented  properly  by  a 
parent  or  teacher  who  really  loves  religion,  there  is  no 
subject  in  which  even  quite  young  children  become  so 
deeply  interested,  and  to  which  they  will  for  so  long  a 
time  give  their  closest  attention.  Then,  children  should 
be  taught  to  consider  that  their  parents,  and  older  persons 
generally,  who  value,  as  they  ought,  the  opportunity 
which  Sunday  affords  them  for  religious  improvement, 
will  not  like  to  have  the  quiet  of  the  day  unneces 
sarily  disturbed,  and  therefore  they  should  make  as  little 
noise  as  possible.  Children  ought  not  to  be  wholly  for 
bidden  to  play  on  Sunday ;  for  it  must  be  as  pleasing  to 


90 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


the  heavenly,  as  it  is  to  the  earthly,  father,  to  see  them 
enjoying  themselves.  But  they  can  readily  understand 
that  their  amusements  ought  not  to  be  such  as  will 
interfere  with  the  comfort  of  older  persons,  and  prevent 
them  from  making  the  improvement  of  the  hours  of 
Sunday  which  they  wish  to  do.  Therefore  it  should  be 
enjoined  upon  children,  that  their  Sunday  plays  should 
be  as  quiet  and  noiseless  as  possible. 

When  I  was  ordained,  my  excellent  friend,  Mrs. 
Gary,  afterwards  my  step-mother,  gave  me  the  elegant 
silk  gown  which  formerly  belonged  to  her  first  hus 
band,  and  which  he  wore  during  his  short  minis 
try  as  the  colleague  of  Dr.  Freeman,  of  King's  Chapel. 
My  dear  Jewish  friends,  the  Misses  Hays,  also  gave 
me  several  pairs  of  very  nice  bands.*  So  I  com 
menced  my  labors  as  a  preacher,  attired,  as  was  cus 
tomary  at  that  time,  especially  with  city  preachers, 
in  a  flowing  black  gown,  and  very  white  bands.  But  I 
had  hardly  become  accustomed  to  wearing  them,  before 
the  question  arose  in  my  mind,  whether  dressing  up  in 
a  particular  and  somewhat  imposing  garb,  in  order  to 
teach  Christianity,  might  not  have  the  effect  to  separate 
religion  from  ordinary,  every-day  life,  and  help  to  make 
it  appear  something  peculiar  to  Sunday  and  the  Church. 
I  thought  it  might,  I  feared  it  would,  have  that  effect ; 
and  so  I  threw  my  bands  aside,  and  gave  my  gown  to  a 
poor  woman  who  needed  a  comfortable  dress. 

*  In  a  letter  from  Slowey  Hays,  which  accompanied  this  gift, 
she  said,  "  I  have  made  them,  dear  Sam,  of  stiff  materials,  that 
they  may  prick  your  chin,  should  you  ever  say  aught  unkind  of 
my  dear  people." 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.  91 

For  several  years  after  my  settlement,  I  administered 
the  Lord's  Supper  in  the  way  that  had  long  been  prac 
tised  in  the  Church,  and  was  then  the  universal  custom, 
at  the  close  of  the  forenoon  service,  after  the  bene 
diction,  to  those  only  who  were  called  communicants. 
They  were  a  class  of  persons  admitted  to  this  privilege 
by  vote  of  those  who  already  belonged  to  the  class,  on 
condition  of  their  making  before  the  whole  congregation 
an  acknowledgment  of  their  faith. 

The  Church  of  Brooklyn  had  put  aside  the  Creed, 
and  substituted  in  its  stead  a  Covenant  which  set  forth 
only  the  simple,  great  doctrines  of  Christ  and  his  apostles, 
which  all  Christians  of  every  denomination  acknowledge 
they  taught.  This  appeared  to  me  an  advance  in  the 
right  direction.  It  removed,  from  the  approach  to  the 
Lord's  Table,  that  impediment  which  had  kept  away 
many  believers  in  God,  and  in  Christ  as  His  beloved 
Son,  who  could  not  assent  to  the  doctrines  of  the  Trin 
ity,  or  the  vicarious  punishment  of  Jesus.  But  ere  long 
the  question  arose,  by  what  authority  or  right  a  portion 
(usually  a  small  portion)  of  a  Christian  society  assumed 
to  themselves  the  exclusive  privilege  of  one  of  the  ordi 
nances  of  Christianity.  If  partaking  of  the  Lord's  Sup 
per  was  a  means  of  spiritual  improvement,  and  not  the 
seal  of  sanctification,  I  could  not  see  why  any,  why  all, 
persons  who  desired  to  bring  themselves  under  the  influ 
ences  of  that  ordinance,  should  not  be  freely  permitted 
to  do  so  without  the  interposition  of  any  conditions,  ex 
cepting  perhaps  the  avowal  of  the  desire  and  intention  to 
do  so.  I  could  not  see  why  there  should  be  this  bar  to  the 


92  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Lord's  Table,  any  more  than  to  the  House  of  God,  and 
the  offices  of  prayer  and  singing  psalms.  I  could  get 
no  evidence  that  all  the  persons  who  were  admitted  to 
the  Communion  were  more  correct  in  their  belief  or 
more  obedient  in  their  lives  than  many  who  were 
excluded.  And  then,  if  the  outsiders  were  not  so  good, 
but  desired  to  become  better,  it  seemed  to  me  our  duty 
was  to  encourage  and  urge  them  onward,  instead  of 
putting  the  slightest  hinderance  in  their  way. 

The  question  agitated  my  mind  for  some  time,  and 
was  made  the  subject  of  much  conference  with  "the 
members  of  the  Church,"  as  those  who  partook  of 
the  Lord's  Supper  were  called.  Most  of  them  came 
readily  to  see  and  acknowledge  that  they  had  been  led 
into  an  unwarranted  assumption  of  privilege.  They 
therefore  consented  that,  while  we  should  continue  "  to 
admit  persons  to  the  Church"  in  the  formal  manner 
that  had  long  been  customary  where  persons  desired  to 
be  so  admitted,  we  should  not  forbid  any  others  to 
come  to  the  Lord's  Table  who  wished  so  to  do,  without 
having  submitted  to  the  ceremony  of  admission. 

It  soon  became  my  practice,  at  the  close  of  the  fore 
noon  service  on  "  Communion  Sunday,"  to  announce 
that  the  Lord's  Supper  was  then  to  be  administered, 
and  *to  invite  all  whose  hearts  moved  them  so  to  do  to 
remain  and  commune  with  us.  Such,  however,  was  the 
influence  of  the  long-established  custom,  that  few  did 
so  without  having  been  previously  "admitted  to  the 
Church." 

After  a  while,  with  the  advice  and  consent  of  the 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.  93 

church  members,  I  discontinued  the  preparatory  lecture 
which  used  always  to  be  delivered  on  the  Friday  after 
noon  before  Communion  Sunday.  This  was  done  for 
the  reason  that  such  an  observance  tended  to  separate 
this  ordinance  from  the  other  services  of  public  worship, 
and  to  hold  it  up  to  the  people  as  something  more 
sacred,  more  to  be  held  in  awe,  than  prayer  and  the 
praise  of  God.  So  we  substituted  for  the  preparatory 
lecture  once  a  month  the  weekly  meeting  for  mutual 
religious  improvement,  in  order  that  we  might  help  one 
another  to  live,  as  well  as  speak,  the  praise  of  God,  and 
make  life  itself  a  continual  prayer. 

On  my  removal  to  South  Scituate  in  1836, 1  induced 
the  Church  there  to  adopt  the  same  plan,  I  believe  with 
good  efiect.  And  when  I  came  to  be  the  minister  of 
the  Church  in  Syracuse,  I  advised  that  the  administra 
tion  of  the  Lord's  Supper  should  constitute  the  whole 
service  of  public  worship  on  the  forenoon  of  the  first 
Sunday  of  every  other  month ;  and  that  "  every  person 
present,  who  loves  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  who  feels 
his  indebtedness  to  him  for  all  he  has  done  and  suffered 
for  the  redemption  of  mankind,  should  be  invited  to 
commemorate  his  death  and  the  divine  virtue  and 
grace  which  he  manifested  in  that  hour  of  his  utmost 
trial,  by  partaking  of  the  Lord's  Supper." 

This  plan  was  at  once  adopted,  and  the  ordinance  has 
been  so  administered  ever  since  I  have  lived  here,  now 
nearly  nineteen  years.  I  am  unable  to  ascertain  what  has 
been,  on  the  whole,  the  efiect  here  of  my  mode  of  treat 
ing  and  conducting  this  sacrament.  For  I  have  reason 


94  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

to  believe  that,  in  this  region  of  our  country,  the  Chris 
tian  sacraments  have  never  been  held  in  as  high  esteem  as 
they  used  to  be  throughout  New  England.  And  then 
again  it  is  said  that  the  regard  for  these  ordinances  is 
everywhere  declining,  and  in  most,  if  not  all,  other  sects, 
as  well  as  our  own.  I  regret  that  more  persons  have  not 
beei ,  and  are  not  now,  more  interested  in  the  Lord's 
Supper  as  a  simple  memorial  of  the  faith  and  the  love,  — 
the  self-sacrificing  love  of  the  Founder  of  Christianity. 
It  is  to  me  an  appropriate  and  an  affecting  rite.  But 
many  there  are,  especially  those  who  were  formerly 
of  the  "  Society  of  Friends,"  who  say  they  see  no 
significance  in  eating  a  piece  of  bread  and  drinking  a 
sip  of  wine.  Our  congregations  are  generally  about  as 
large  on  Communion  Sundays  as  on  others,  although  a 
few  persons  absent  themselves.  Those  present  seem 
interested;  and  quite  a  number  have  told  me  they  love 
to  be  there  and  to  hear  my  delineations  of  the  character 
of  Jesus  Christ,  although  they  have  never  been  moved 
to  partake  of  the  bread  and  wine. 

About  ten  years  ago,  Hon.  Horace  Mann  happened  to 
be  with  us  on  a  Communion  Sunday.  I  observed  that 
he  was  much  aifected.  As  we  were  walking  to  my 
house,  he  said,  "  Never  before  have  I  seen  much  signifi 
cance  in  the  Lord's  Supper;  never  before  have  I  felt 
moved  to  partake  of  it :  but  to-day  I  have  been  affected 
by  your  representations  of  its  intention,  and  your  deline 
ations  of  the  character  of  Christ  as  revealed  in  the 
hour  of  his  death."  "Then,"  I  said,  "I  hope  you 
joined  with  us  in  partaking  of  the  bread  and  wine." 


BROOKLYN,   CONN. 

"No,"  he  replied,  "I  did  not.  I  was  withheld  by  the 
influence  of  the  old  notions  and  feelings  respecting  the 
Lord's  Supper,  which  I  imbibed  in  my  childhood  from 
Dr.  Emmons,  under  whose  ministry  my  religious  educa 
tion  commenced." 

But  we  must  go  back  again  to  Brooklyn,  where  many 
of  my  heresies  began. 

Amongst  those  of  my  congregation  there  who  refrained 
from  the  Lord's  Supper,  notwithstanding  my  cordial 
invitations   to   it,  was   one   of  the   best   men   in    the 
Society  or   the   town,  Mr.  Nathan   Witter.     He  was 
seldom  absent  from  meeting  on  the  Lord's  day,  always 
remained  to  witness  the  administration  of  the  Supper ; 
but   never   partook  of   the  bread  and  wine.     I  soon 
inquired  the  reason  of  his  conduct.     He  informed  me 
that  he  deemed  it  wrong  for  any  one  to  partake  of  the 
Lord's  Supper  who  had  not  been   baptized,  and   thus 
regularly  admitted  into  the  Church  of  Christ;  and  that 
he  had  never  been  baptized  according  to  his  under 
standing  of  the  ordinance  of  baptism.     "  True,"  said  he, 
"  I  was  sprinkled  when  an  infant,  at  the  request  of  my 
parents ;  but  I  was  unconscious  of  the  act.     It  was  not 
the  baptism  of  a  believer ;   and  therefore,  I  think,  not 
a  proper  and  sufficient  introduction  into  the  Church  of 
Christ."     I  argued  with  him  that  the  quantity  of  water 
used  in  baptism  could  not  be  of  any  importance  if  the 
heart  and  conscience  were  right  towards  God ;  and  that 
if  his  parents  had  fulfilled  the  promises  they  made  at 
his  baptism,  and  had  brought  him  up  "  in  the  nurture 
and  admonition  of  the  Lord,"  he  was  a  member  of  the 


96  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Church,  as  all  ought  to  be,  from  his  birth.  But  my 
arguments  were  of  no  avail.  He  was  a  very  staid, 
conscientious  man,  somewhat  of  the  stern,  puritanical 
sort,  and  must  needs  govern  himself  by  his  own  convic 
tions.  He  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  become  a  "  com 
municant,"  but  would  not,  excepting  in  the  way  that 
seemed  to  him  scriptural  and  proper. 

After  some  consideration  of  the  case,  I  offered,  with 
the  consent  of  the  brethren,  to  conform  to  his  ideas  of 
what  would  be  right,  to  baptize  him  by  immersion, 
and  receive  him  into  the  Church  on  his  own  profession 
of  faith  in  Christ.  He  objected  that  he  feared  this  would 
be  deemed  irregular,  and  that  I  should  bring  upon  myself 
the  censure*  of  the  churches.  Dr.  Whitney  had  refused 
to  rebaptize  him ;  and  Mr.  Willson,  under  the  circum 
stances  in  which  he  was  placed,  thought  it  not  expedient 
for  him  to  immerse  him.  Although  I  could  foresee  no 
evil  that  could  come  of  my  yielding  to  the  conscientious 
scruples  of  a  good  man,  I  thought  it  best  not  to  act 
unadvisedly.  Accordingly,  I  addressed  letters  to  Rev. 
Dr.  Bancroft,  of  Worcester,  and  Rev.  Dr.  Thayer,  of 
Lancaster,  Mass.,  both  of  whom  had  assisted  in  my 
ordination.  I  stated  the  case  to  them  as  fully  as  seemed 
necessary,  and  intimated  my  desire  to  conform  to  the 
wishes  of  Mr.  Witter.  Each  of  those  wise  and  excel 
lent  men  replied  tenderly  to  my  inquiry,  expressed  sym 
pathy  for  Mr.  Witter,  but  concluded  by  advising  that, 
on  the  whole,  it  would  be  better  for  me  not  to  comply. 
So  doing  would  be  contrary  to  the  long-established 
usa£e  of  the  Protestant  Churches.  It  would  seem  to 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.  97 

be  an  assent  to  the  insufficiency  of  infant  baptism,  and 
might  introduce  disorder  into  our  churches. 

Such  advice,  for  a  while,  held  me  in  suspense.  But 
the  longer  I  saw  that  good  man  submitting  without 
complaint,  though  sorrowfully,  to  what  he  deemed  a 
great  privation,  the  more  unwilling  was  I  that  he  should 
suffer  it.  And  so,  insisting  on  our  right  as  an  indepen 
dent  Church  to  conduct  the  services  of  public  worship 
and  to  use  the  ordinances  in  the  way  that  we  thought 
would  conduce  most  to  the  edification  of  our  own 
members,  with  the  consent  of  the  Brooklyn  Church  I 
invited  the  gentleman  to  be  baptized  by  immersion, 
and  so  become  a  member  of  our  Church  in  the  way  he 
thought  right. 

He  was  grateful  for  our  condescension,  and,  not 
without  hesitation  on  our  account,  consented  to  our 
proposal.  Notice  was  accordingly  given  from  the  pul 
pit  one  Sunday  that,  at  three  o'clock  that  afternoon, 
at  a  certain  place,  Nathan  Witter  would  profess  his 
faith  in  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  be  baptized  by 
immersion,  and  received  into  the  Church.  Of  course  a 
large  number  of  people,  of  the  other  congregations  in 
the  town,  as  well  as  our  own,  went  in  due  season  to 
the  appointed  place.  It  was  a  bright,  beautiful  after 
noon  in  summer,  in  a  picturesque  meadow  at  a  graceful 
bend  of  the  small  river  called  Blackwell's  Brook,  where 
there  was  a  small  pebbly  beach,  over  which  we  could 
walk,  not  too  suddenly,  into  the  depth  of  the  stream. 

After  a  few  introductory  remarks  and  prayer,  I  read 
to  Mr.  Witter  the  Church  Covenant,  and,  after  his 
6  o 


98  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

audible  assent  thereto,  I  took  him  by  the  arm,  and 
walked  with  him  into  the  stream  until  the  water  was 
up  to  our  waists ;  and  then,  pronouncing  the  form  of 
words  prescribed  by  our  Lord,  I  immersed  the  rest 
of  his  body. 

The  scene  was  new  to  myself.  I  had  never  witnessed 
such  an  administering  of  baptism  by  another,  and  never 
performed  the  service  in  that  way  but  once  before.  I 
was  almost  overcome  by  my  own  emotions,  and  saw 
that  the  people  were  excited  above  measure.  So  soon, 
therefore,  as  I  reached  the  bank,  I  admonished  them 
that  we  ought  not  to  take  it  for  granted  that  our  emo 
tions  were  purely  religious  feelings ;  that  the  significance 
of  baptism,  administered,  as  they  had  just  seen,  by 
immersion,  was  no  higher  than  when  conferred  by 
sprinkling.  That  we  all  were  unusually  excited,  because 
the  performance  was  a  novel  one  to  most  of  us,  and  the 
beautiful  surroundings  and  circumstances  of  the  occa 
sion  conspired  to  give  it  solemnity;  but  that  we  might 
be  solemnized  without  being  sanctified,  and  might  have 
our  religious  feelings  greatly  excited  without  really 
giving  our  hearts  to  God.  And  I  pressed  it  upon  them 
not  to  leave  that  spot  without  the  assurance  that  it  was 
not  the  putting  of  water  upon  the  body  in  small  quan 
tity  or  large  that  was  acceptable  to  God  or  essential  to 
our  salvation,  but  the  denying  of  all  ungodliness  and 
worldly  lusts,  and  living  soberly,  righteously,  and 
piously  in  all  the  relations  and  intercourse  of  life. 

It  being  understood,  from  my  procedure  in  this  case, 
that  I  held  myself  in  readiness  to  administer  this  sacra- 


BROOKLYN,  CONN.  99 

ment  in  the  way  that  seemed  right  and  scriptural  to 
the  recipient,  I  was  several  times  called  upon,  while  I 
continued  in  Brooklyn,  to  baptize  by  immersion ;  and 
during  my  too  short  ministry  in  South  Scituate  I 
admitted  a  good  man  and  his  wife  to  the  Church  at  the 
same  time,  by  immersing  him  in  the  river  and  by 
sprinkling  her  on  the  bank. 

The  Orthodox  portion  of  the  original  Brooklyn 
Church,  being  the  smaller,  were  obliged  to  leave  the  old 
meeting-house  in  our  possession;  and,  after  worship 
ping  awhile  in  a  hall,  they  built  them  a  small  house, 
capable  of  holding  about  two  hundred  persons.  In 
due  time,  they  invited  a  candidate,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Edson,  to  settle  as  their  pastor.  Knowing  that  an 
ordination  was  an  occasion  likely  to  bring  together  a 
larger  concourse  of  people  than  could  be  accommodated 
in  their  small  meeting-house,  our  Society  tendered  to 
them  the  use  of  our  house  for  that  day.  The  offer  was 
gratefully  accepted.  People  came  from  all  the  neighbor 
hood  to  witness  the  solemnities,  and  filled  the  old 
meeting-house  to  its  utmost  capacity.  A  prominent, 
eloquent,  and  very  zealous  minister  had  been  invited  to 
preach  on  the  occasion.  He  came  fully  prepared,  as  he 
felt  in  duty  bound,  to  denounce  the  great  heresy  which 
had  ousted  the  true  Church  of  Brooklyn  from  its  old 
home.  He  arrived  but  a  few  hours  before  the  services 
began,  and  learnt,  to  his  no  little  discomfiture,  that  he 
was  to  deliver  his  philippic  against  Unitarianism  from 
the  pulpit  of  the  Unitarian  Church,  which  had  been 
graciously  lent  for  the  occasion.  Being  a  gentleman 


100 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


of  quick  sensibility  to  the  courteous  and  right,  he  was 
made  very  uncomfortable  by  the  predicament  in  which 
he  found  himself.  He  tried,  but  was  not  successful  in 
his  attempts,  to  qualify  somewhat  the  severity  of  his 
condemnation  of  us.  And  I  really  pitied  him  so  much 
in  his  awkward  embarrassments,  that  I  forgave  his 
uncharitableness,  and  felt  not  the  point  of  his  cen 
sures. 

A  bare  majority  of  the  communicants  under  the  old 
regime  seceded  with  the  Orthodox.  In  virtue  of  that 
majority,  they  claimed  to  be  the  Church  of  the  First 
Ecclesiastical  Society  in  Brooklyn,  Conn.,  though  they 
could  not  deny  that  we  were  that  society.  As  the 
church  records  and  communion  vessels  were  left  at  Dr. 
Whitney's  house,  where  they  had  always  been  kept,  we 
forbore  awhile  from  pressing  our  claims  to  them.  But 
so  soon  as  the  Orthodox  party  had  organized  as  the 
"First  Trinitarian  Church  and  Society  in  Brooklyn," 
and  had  settled  a  minister  under  that  title,  at  my  sug 
gestion  a  committee  of  our  Church  made  a  written 
proposal  to  their  Church,  that  we  would  appoint  our 
Communion  Service  on  the  month  alternate  to  that  on 
which  they  pleased  to  have  theirs,  and  would  use  the 
sacred  vessels  in  common,  always  returning  them  after 
use  to  Dr.  Whitney  for  safe-keeping.  To  this  proposal, 
they  replied  that  they  did  not  know  who  we  were, 
and  would  not  lend  their  vessels  to  be  used  for  any 
such  purpose. 

Our  prompt  rejoinder  was,  that  we  were  the  Church 
of  the  First  Ecclesiastical   Society  in  Brooklyn,  and 


BROOKLYN,  CONN. 


101 


that  we  demanded  of  them  certain  sacramental  vessels 
belonging  to  us  which  were  known  to  be  in  their  pos 
session.  That  we  denied  utterly  their  claim  to  them ; 
but,  as  we  wished  to  live  in  peace  and  in  neighborly 
kindness,  we  would  consent  that  they  should  get  the 
p?*operty  in  their  hands  belonging  to  us  properly 
appraised  by  a  competent  person,  and  we  would  either 
p  iy  half  of  the  sum  so  appraised  and  take  the  vessels, 
or  they  should  pay  us  half  the  sum  and  keep  them. 
We  added  that,  if  they  would  not  consent  to  this  way 
of  settling  the  question  between  us,  we  should  seek 
redress  by  the  agency  of  the  law.  This  produced  the 
desired  effect.  A  sum  was  named,  the  half  of  which 
we  thought  it  not  best  to  pay.  So  they  kept  the  ves 
sels  and  paid  us  the  half,  with  which  we  were  able  to 
purchase  a  very  neat  and  suitable  communion  set. 
Thus  all  strife  between  us  ended. 

I  had  no  religious  intercourse  with  the  members  of 
the  Orthodox  Church,  nor  ministerial  intercourse  with 
their  pastor.  But  I  sought  to  establish  and  'maintain 
friendly  relations  with  all  my  neighbors,  and  was  quite 
successful.  They  invited  me  to  their  houses  as  a  vis 
itor,  and  they  visited  me  in  return. 

The  prominent  physician  of  the  town,  Dr.  Waldo 
Hutchins,  was  a  member  of  the  Orthodox  Church,  and 
his  father  and  all  his  relatives  in  neighboring  towns 
belonged  to  the  same  denomination.  But  he  was  my 
medical  adviser  and  personal  friend.  Four  or  five 
years  after  our  acquaintance  commenced,  he  was  taken 
sick  and  died.  When  conscious  that  he  was  approach- 


102  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

ing  the  grave,  he  sent  for  me  to  converse  and  pray  with 
him.  He  begged  me  to  visit  him  often,  and  sent  for 
me  once  at  midnight.  The  morning  after  his  decease,  I 
was  informed  that  he  was  to  have  a  public  funeral,  and 
that  he  had  requested  his  wife  and  father  that  I  might 
be  called  on  to  preach  the  sermon,  naming  his  father's 
minister  at  Killingly,  and  two  other  Orthodox  ministers 
and  particular  friends,  as  those  whom  he  wished  should 
officiate  in  the  other  services  at  his  house  and  in  tho 
Church.  As  I  expected,  and  foretold  his  afflicted  fam 
ily,  those  gentlemen  refused  to  appear  with  me  in  pub 
lic  as  a  Christian'  minister.  I  therefore  advised  that 
another  should  be  requested  to  preach  in  my  stead,  and 
I  be  allowed  to  take  my  place,  as  I  could  sincerely, 
among  the  mourners.  But  neither  the  wife* nor  the 
father  would  consent.  The  dying  request  of  the  dear 
departed  one  must  be  complied  with,  and  they  there 
fore  begged  me  to  perform  all  the  services.  A  large 
concourse  of  personal  and  professional  friends  attended 
the  funeral,  among  them  several  of  the  Orthodox  min 
isters  of  the  adjoining  towns;  and,  out  of  regard  to  the 
family,  some  who  had  refused  to  take  any  part  with  me 
were  obliged  to  hear  my  prayers  and  listen  to  my  ser 
mon.  This  was  a  lesson  they  did  not  expect  would  be 
given  them,  and  they  never  forgot  it. 

As  a  friend  of  education,  and  of  temperance,  the 
Orthodox  men  and  ministers  of  Brooklyn  and  the  vi 
cinity  united  with  me  in  labors  for  the  promotion  of 
those  great  and  good  objects.  And  some  joined  me  in 
the  Peace  Society,  formed  in  August,  1826,  to  co-oper- 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.  103 

ate  with  Dr.  Worcester  and  his  followers,  who  were  en 
deavoring  to  abolish  the  custom  of  war. 

Brooklyn  was  the  county  town.  The  court-house 
and  jail  were  there.  Several  sessions  of  the  different 
courts  were  held  there  every  year ;  and  lawyers  and 
other  gentlemen  came  thither  from  all  parts  of  the  State, 
with  many  of  whom  I  became  acquainted,  and  found 
some  of  them  to  be  very  liberal  as  well  as  educated 
men. 

Our  meeting-house  was  the  largest  building  in  the 
place,  and  therefore  county  agricultural,  masonic,  tem 
perance,  and  other  conventions,  were  often  held  in  it ; 
and  I  was  sometimes  called  upon  to  officiate  at  them. 
This  of  course  made  the  only  Unitarian  minister  in 
Connecticut  more  widely  known  to  the  people. 

A  year  or  two  after  my  settlement,  I  was  elected 
chaplain  of  the  regiment;  but  I  declined  the  office, 
because  I  told  the  colonel  I  could  not  pray  that  the 
soldiers  might  do  the  very  thing  they  would  be  mus 
tered  to  do,  but  could  only  pray  that  they  might  "  beat 
their  swords  into  ploughshares,  and  their  bayonets  into 
pruning-hooks,  and  learn  war  no  more." 

Not  long  afterwards,  a  man  was  found  guilty  of  the 
most  atrocious  murder  of  his  wife,  and  was  condemned 
to  be  hanged.  I  had  no  doubt  of  his  horrid  guilt,  and 
visited  him  often  in  his  cell,  endeavoring  to  soften  his 
hardened  heart  and  lead  him  to  repentance.  The  sheriff 
waited  upon  me  and  invited  me  to  officiate  at  the  gal 
lows.  I  inquired  if  it  was  the  request  of  the  con 
demned  man  that  I  should  do  so.  He  said  no,  but 


104 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


that  he  had  come  in  behalf  of  the  State.  Then  I  told 
him  that  I  could  not  comply.  I  would  go  if  the 
wretched  criminal  invited  me,  as  the  sympathizing 
friend  of  a  very  wicked  brother  man ;  but  that  I  could 
not  be,  or  seem  to  be  in  any  wise,  the  agent  of  the  State 
to  do  what  I  did  not  think  the  State  had  any  right  to 
do.  This  led  to  an  earnest  discussion  of  the  propriety 
of  the  death  penalty.  I  pressed  the  sheriff  with  such 
arguments  as  I  then  wielded  against  the  infliction,  until 
he  was  much  moved  and  expressed  a  desire  to  be  ex 
cused  from  the  awful  duty.  I  afterwards  learnt  that  his 
heart  failed  him  at  the  last,  and  he  left  it  for  a  stolid 
deputy  to  do  the  deed. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

BROOKLYN,   CONN.,   CONCLUDED. 

Tin?  TEMPERANCE  MOVEMENT. — BEGINS  TO  PRACTISE  AND  TO 
PREACH  TOTAL  ABSTINENCE.  —  His  "RAISING"  WITHOUT 
SPIRITUOUS  LIQUORS.  —  WILLIAM  LADD. — FIRST  EDUCA 
TIONAL  CONVENTION.  —  MEETS  A.  BHONSON  ALCOTT.  — 
LECTURES  ON  EDUCATION.  —  A  POWERLESS  HORSE.  — 
CALLED  TO  PROVIDENCE.  —  RESOLVES  TO  STAY  IN  BROOK 
LYN. 

TN  May,  1826, 1  attended  the  anniversaries  in  Boston. 
•*•  Amongst  them  I  attended  the  annual  meeting  of 
the  Massachusetts  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Intern, 
perance,  and  afterwards  a  meeting  of  ministers  called 
together  in  the  vestry  of  the  First  Church,  the  Chauncy 
Place  Church,  to  consider  what  was  our  especial  duty  as 
ministers.  Several  things  were  said  that  moved  me 
deeply.  At  length  Dr.  Lowell  rose,  and,  having  added 
a  few  words  in  further  delineation  of  the  frightful  rav 
ages  of  intemperance,  said,  with  his  sweet  solemnity  of 
manner :  "  We  can  at  least  do  one  thing :  we  can  our 
selves  set  a  good,  yes,  a  perfect,  example.  Let  us  abstain 
wholly  from  the  use  of  whatever  can  intoxicate.  If 
such  an  example  should  be  generally  followed,  we  may 
be  sure  the  evil  we  deprecate  would  be  extirpated  from 
the  communities  in  which  we  live.  I  know  IK  t  that 
this  can  be  done  by  any  other  means.  This  expedient 
6* 


106  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

is  proposed :  let  us  try  it  faithfully,  at  any  expense  of 
discomfort,  at  any  sacrifice." 

I  probably  have  not  reported  exactly  his  words :  the 
above  was  the  meaning  of  what  he  said.  My  determina 
tion  was  formed  at  the  close  of  his  speech. 

It  had  been  my  habit  up  to  that  time,  occasionally, 
at  noon  on  Sunday  especially,  to  take  a  glass  of  wine, 
and  to  drink  a  tumbler  of  cider  every  day  with  my  din 
ner  ;  but  at  that  moment  these  indulgences  were  re 
nounced.  Whether  they  were  salutary  or  not  I  cared 
not  to  inquire.  In  the  spirit  of  St.  Paul,  I  said  "  If  wine 
cause  my  brother  to  offend,  I  will  not  drink  wine  while 
the  world  standeth,  lest  I  cause  my  brother  to  offend." 

On  my  return  home,  I  announced  to  my  good  wife 
my  determination  that  no  more  wine  or  cider  should  be 
used  in  my  family,  and  consecrated  a  hamper  of  deli 
cious  Madeira,  that  had  recently  been  sent  me  by  my 
friend  Hon.  William  Sullivan,  whose  sons  were  then 
under  my  instruction,  to  the  service  of  the  sick  alone. 
She  heartily  concurred  with  me  in  the  new  measure,  and 
total  abstinence  was  then  established  as  a  rule  of  my 
household. 

That  evening,  or  the  next,  a  party  of  neighbors  came 
in  to  welcome  my  return.  At  the  usual  time  a  plate  of 
cake  was  handed  round,  when  my  sister  Abby  roguishly 
said,  "If  any  of  you  are  thirsty,  you  must  go  to  the 
well  and  satisfy  yourselves ;  for  my  brother  has  decre  ed 
that  we  shall  offer  to  our  friends  hereafter  nothinw  bet- 

O 

ter  than  cold  water."  This  led  to  an  exposition  of  my 
new  faith,  and  the  terrible  statistics  of  intemperance, 


BROOKLYN,    CONN.,   CONCLUDED.  107 

which  had  induced  me  to  adopt  the  principle  of  total 
abstinence.  A  few  evenings  afterwards,  we  returned 
the  call,  or  rather  attended  a  small  party  at  the  house 
of  one  of  the  neighbors  alluded  to  above.  Just  before 
we  rose  to  leave,  the  good  lady  of  the  house  offered  us 
cake,  and  pleasantly  said,  "  We  are  not  going  to  treat 
you  any  better  than  we  were  treated  the  other  evening  at 
our  minister's  house :  he  gave  us  nothing  but  cold  water ; 
our  well  is  as  good  as  his,  and  you  may  have  as  much 
cold  water  as  you  please.  We  mean  to  follow  the  ex 
ample  of  our  minister."  Thus  the  doctrine  of  total  ab 
stinence  was  again  made  the  subject  of  discussion.  But 
I  felt  that  much  more  was  to  be  done  than  merely  talk 
upon  the  subject  at  private  parties.  The  statistics  pub 
lished  by  the  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Intemper 
ance,  and  still  later  by  the  Total  Abstinence  Society, 
were  too  awful  to  be  readily  believed,  so  I  set  about  in 
vestigating  the  matter  for  myself.  I  easily  calculated 
what  would  be  the  quota  for  Brooklyn  of  all  the  various 
evils  set  forth  by  the  above-named  societies  as  the 
dreadful  consequences  of  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks 
throughout  our  country.  It  was  taken  for  granted  that 
there  was  less  intemperance  in  our  town  than  in  many 
others.  I  therefore  did  not  expect  to  find  our  full  pro 
portion  of  the  various  evils,  but  supposed  I  should  find 
enough  of  them  to  justify  the  general  statement. 

I  went  personally  to  every  retailer  in  the  town,  and 
ascertained  what  quantities  of  the  various  sorts  of  in 
toxicating  drinks  he  sold  in  the  course  of  a  year,  and 
their  prices.  From  the  same  persons  I  learnt  the  num.- 


LIFE  OP   SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

ber  of  inebriates  in  the  town.     The  overseers  of  the 
poor  enabled  me  to  find  out  how  many  persons  had  been 
reduced  to  poverty  by  their  own  self-indulgence,  or  by 
the  intemperance  of  those  on  whom  they  were  necessa 
rily  dependent.     The  physicians,  the  sexton,  and  the 
older  inhabitants  gave  me  the  facts,  from  which  I  could 
estimate   how  much   sickness   and   how  many  deaths 
might  be  fairly  attributed  to  the  use  of  alcohol.    And  the 
records  of  the  court  and  of  the  jailer  told  pretty  correctly 
how  many  crimes  had  been  perp'etrated,  during  the  pre 
vious  ten  years,  under  the  influence  of  the  same  demon. 
After  the  most  careful  examination  of  all  the  informa 
tion  thus  obtained,  I  was   brought  to  the  conclusion, 
much  to  my  surprise,  that  the  frightful  statements,  made 
in  the  reports  of  the  temperance  societies,  of  the  waste, 
the  miseries,  the  crimes,  the  deaths  caused  by  the  use  of 
intoxicating  drinks,  were  abundantly  sustained  by  the 
facts  of  the  case  found  in  our  own  town. 

Thus  fortified,  I  made  the  evils  of  intemperance  the 
subject  of  a  sermon,  preached  to  a  full  congregation. 
I  spread  before  my  hearers  the  condition  of  the  country 
in  this  respect,  giving  them  the  statistics  published  by 
the  societies,  that  had  been  formed,  if  possible,  to  re 
form  the  people.  I  closed  by  giving  notice  that  I  should 
resume  the  subject  on  the  following  Sunday.  My  hear 
ers  were  mud}  excited;  many  looked  incredulous;  some 
were  evidently  displeased.  As  I  was  coming  out  of  the 
house,  one  old  man  said  to  me  rather  roughly,  «  You'll 
never  make  us  believe  such  big  stories  as  you  have  told 
us  this  morning:  you  had  better  preach  the  gospel  Jo 


BROOKLYN,    CONN.,    CONCLUDED.  109 

us."  "  My  friend,"  I  replied,  "  wait  until  you  hear  what 
I  shall  tell  you  next  Sunday." 

The  next  Sunday  came.  The  audience  was  large, 
and  the  people  had  come  eager  to  hear  if  any  thing  more 
extravagant  was  to  be  told  them. 

I  took  up  the  statements  I  had  made  the  previous 
Sunday,  on  the  authority  of  the  temperance  reports, 
and  then  set  about  to  show  them  by  the  statistics  of  our 
.own  town,  which  I  had  so  carefully  gathered  up  and 
arranged,  that  if  the  amount  of  intoxicating  liquors 
drank  by  the  people  throughout  the  United  States  was 
proportionably  only  as  great  as  the  amount  used  in 
Brooklyn,  and  if  the  evils  everywhere  produced  by  that 
indulgence  were  everywhere  as  many  and  as  dreadful  as 
I  had  found  them  to  be,  and  no  more  nor  worse,  even  then 
the  calculations  made,  and  the  statistics  given,  by  the 
friends  of  temperance  must  be  wholly  within  the  truth. 

This  exposition  evidently  made  an  impression  upon  the 
minds  of  my  auditors.  A  great  many  adopted  the  prin 
ciple  of  "  total  abstinence,"  and  the  cause  of  temperance 
became  quite  popular.  Daniel  Frost,  a  very  respectable 
lawyer  of  Canterbury,  became  a  convert,  and  then  an 
earnest  advocate,  and  at  length  devoted  himself  almost 
entirely  to  the  cause. 

I  lectured  frequently  on  the  subject,  not  only  in  all 
parts  of  Brooklyn,  but  in  all  the  neighboiing  towns. 
We  certainly  succeeded  in  diminishing  greatly  the  ap 
parent,  if  not  the  real,  amount  of  the  evils  of  intemper 
ance.  Numbers  of  drunkards  were  reclaimed ;  several 
of  the  retailers  abandoned  their  traffic ;  and  the  use  of 


110 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


intoxicating  beverages  was  renounced  by  a  great  many 
persons.     It  seemed  as  if  a  general  and  most  beneficent 
reformation  was  indeed  to  be  effected.     Young  persons 
and  old,  male  and  female,  signed  the  pledge  of  total 
abstinence.     Amongst  many  very  interesting  and  affect 
ing  instances  of  self-consecration  to  this  work,  I  remem 
ber  one  with  particular  pleasure.     I  went  to  Norwich, 
about  twenty  miles  south  of  Brooklyn,  to  lecture  on  the 
subject.     I  had  a  good  audience,  and  was  conscious  of 
making  no  little  impression.     So  soon  as  I  called  for 
signatures  to  the  pledge,  a  venerable  man,  more  than 
seventy-five  years  of  age,  came  forward  to  give  his  name. 
It  was  General  Zechariah  Huntington.     He  was  one  of 
Washington's  aids  during  the  war  of  the  Revolution, 
and  had  ever  since  sustained  a  most  respectable  position 
in  the  community  where  he  lived.     Before  he  wrote  his 
signature,  he  said,  "  I  am  now,  as  you  all  perceive,  an  old 
man.      I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  drinking  alcohol  in 
some  of  its  forms  many  years,  more  than  fifty.     Every 
day  I  have  taken  a  dram ;   but  I  have  seen  so  much  of 
the  horrible  effects  of  intemperance,  that  I  have  been 
upon  my  guard  and  have  always  used  rum  and  wine 
moderately.     I  do  not  believe  it  has  ever  done  me  any 
harm:  it    may  have    done    me  good.      Many  persons 
think  that  to  renounce  it,  at  my  time  of  life,  will   be 
injurious,  perhaps   fatal   to  me.     But  I  am  too  much 
affected,  by  the  fearful  ravages  of  intemperance  in  the 
land,  to  hesitate  a  moment  longer  as  to  my  duty.    I  have 
often  exposed  my  life  upon  the  field  of  battle  for  the  re 
demption  of  my  country  from  a  foreign  foe ;  and  I  will 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.,   CONCLUDED.  HI 

not  refuse  any  sacrifice  that  I  am  called  upon  to  make, 
to  save  my  country  from  this  far  worse,  this  internal,  ay, 
infernal  enemy,  even  if  it  be  the  sacrifice  of  life."  The 
eifect  of  such  an  example  was  more  powerful  than  the 
most  eloquent  speech. 

Farmers  and  master- workmen,  not  a  few,  refused  to 
furnish  spirituous  drinks  to  their  hired  men  ;  some  re 
fused  to  employ  men  who  persisted  in  the  use  of  such 
drin'is.  And  the  falsity  of  the  notion,  which  had  been 
most  assiduously  disseminated,  was  thoroughly  exposed ; 
the  notion  that  very  hard  work  could  not  be  done  with 
out  the  aid  of  stimulants.  It  was  shown,  too  plainly 
not  to  be  seen,  that  alcohol  conferred  no  strength :  it 
only  excited  to  undue  exertion. 

In  1829  I  built  a  house.  When  the  frame  was  all 
ready  to  be  put  up,  I  said  to  my  master-workman,  "  I 
will  furnish  the  entertainment  for  the  raisers."  "  I  shall 
be  glad  to  have  you  do  so,"  was  his  prompt  reply ;  "  but 
you  must  have  some  rum,  or  spirituous  liquor  of  some 
kind,  for  it  is  always  expected  on  such  occasions,  and 
I  do  not  believe  the  house  can  be  put  up  without  it." 
"  Then  it  must  lie  upon  the  ground,"  said  I ;  "  for  I  do 
not  mean  there  shall  be  a  drop  of  any  thing  that  can 
intoxicate  brought  upon  the  ground."  He  remon 
strated  at  length,  somewhat  angrily,  but  I  was  inflexi 
ble;  and  he  acquiesced  on  my  promise,  in  case  his 
prediction  should  be  fulfilled,  and  the  frame  not  be 
raised,  that  I  would  pay  him  for  the  work  he  had  done, 
and  whatever  damages  for  the  loss  of  his  job  might 
be  awarded  by  an  impartial  reference. 


112 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


The  day  for  the  raising  was  appointed.  The  usual  pub- 
lie  invitation  was  given,  accompanied  by  the  notice  that 
no  spirituous  drinks  would  be  furnished  or  permitted. 
A  large  concourse  of  people  assembled ;  for  in  our  coun 
try  towns,  a  raising  used  to  be  a  great  attraction. 

The  labor  commenced  at  1  P.M.,  and  before  sundown 
the  frames  of  my  house,  42  feet  long,  28  feet  wide,  with 
an  L  24  feet  by  18,  and  of  my  barn  24  feet  by  20,  were 
both  standing  firm.  So  soon  as  the  frame  of  the  main 
part  of  the  house  was  up,  the  refreshment  I  had  pro 
vided  was  brought  on.  It  was  at  once  seen  to  be  a 
generous  one,  very  much  more  costly  than  spirituous 
liquors  would  have  been.  A  murmur  of  satisfaction 
was  everywhere  audible,  and  a  jolly  repast  the  raisers 
made  of  it.  They  afterwards  put  their  hands  and 
shoulders  to  the  work,  with  right  good-will,  and  com 
pleted  the  raising  of  the  L  and  of  the  barn  in  the 
shortest  time  possible. 

Just  about  the  close  of  the  repast,  I  saw  some  com 
motion  on  one  part  of  the  grounds,  and  heard  anj^ry 
voices.  I  hurried  to  the  spot,  and  found  it  was  the 
expression  of  indignation  at  an  unprincipled  man,  who 
had  clandestinely  brought  a  bottle  of  rum  with  him, 
and  had  invited  some  others  to  partake  of  it  with  him. 
His  invitation  was  accepted  by  no  one.  Several  who 
wrere  known  to  be  much  addicted  to  the  use  of  rum 
were  too  honorable  to  take  it  there.  They  said,  "  We 
were  invited  to  a  temperance  raising:  we  have  been 
handsomely  entertained,  and  no  one  shall  stay  here  who 
attempts  to  violate  the  condition  on  which  we  were 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.,   CONCLUDED.  113 

invited."     So  they  broke  the  man's  bottle  and   drove 
him  away. 

As  already  stated,  early  in  my  ministry  I  commenced 
preaching  the  doctrine  of  peace,  and  denouncing  the 
custom  of  war.  In  the  spring  of  1825,  a  most  excel 
lent  man  came  to  reside  in  Brooklyn,  who  was  an 
earnest  fellow-laborer  and  efficient  helper  in  this  cause, 
$lr.  George  Benson,  for  many  years  a  merchant  in 
Providence,  R.I.,  a  member  of  the  distinguished  firm, 
Brown,  Benson,  &  Ives.  He  dissolved  his  connection 
with  them  because  he  could  not  conscientiously  con 
sent  to  some  things  which  they  and  most  merchants 
deemed  perfectly  proper.  He  was  respected  by  all  who 
knew  him,  for  his  steadfast  adherence  to  whatever  he 
believed  to  be  true  and  right.  Although  never  a  mem 
ber  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  he  entertained  most  of 
their  opinions,  cherished  their  spirit,  dressed  very  much 
in  their  style,  and  generally  attended  their  religious 
meetings.  He  was  over  seventy  years  of  age,  very  gen 
tle  and  a  perfect  gentleman.  Able  to  live  comfortably 
on  the  interest  of  his  property,  for  economy's  sake,  and 
yet  more  for  the  good  of  his  large  family,  he  left  the 
city,  and  removed  to  Brooklyn,  where  he  had  purchased 
a  large,  commodious  house,  and  small  farm,  near  the 
village.  He  and  his  family  were  a  valuable  accession 
to  our  society,  and  added  much  to  my  personal  comfort. 
His  wife,  six  daughters,  and  two  sons,  were  all  sensible, 
earnest  persons.  They  conscientiously  differed  some 
what  in  their  religious  opinions,  but  they  were  harmo- 


114  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

nious  among  themselves,  charitable  towards  others,  and 
all  interested  in  the  great  work  of  our  Lord,  the  re 
demption  of  mankind  from  ignorance,  sin,  and  misery. 
Mr.  Benson  for  several  years  attended  regularly  my 
preaching;  but  perceiving  that  my  doctrine  tended 
to  the  humanitarian  view  of  Christ,  and  having  been 
wrought  upon  by  some  of  our  Orthodox  neighbors,  he 
quietly  withheld  himself  from  our  meetings,  and  occa 
sionally  went  to  the  other  church.  But  this  caused  no 
interruption  in  our  frequent  intercourse,  nor  any  abate 
ment  of  its  cordiality ;  for  I  knew  him  to  be  a  pure, 
sincere,  practical  Christian.  Mrs.  Benson,  one  of  the 
most  motherly  of  women ;  Charlotte,  now  Mrs.  Arthony 
of  Providence ;  Sarah,  a  very  saint ;  and  Helen,  now 
Mrs.  Wm.  L.  Garrison  of  Boston,  together  with  Georgo 
W.  and  Henry  E.,  were  devoted  coworkers  with  me, 
and  constant  attendants  on  my  preaching.  Frances,  the 
oldest  daughter,  was  very  Orthodox,  and  Mary  and  Anna 
were  Quakers.  I  wish  I  could  do  better  justice  to  this 
most  estimable  family.  George  W.  was  a  most  ener 
getic,  fearless,  young  man  in  behalf  of  any  thing  that  he 
believed  to  be  true  and  right,  and  Henry  E.  was,  I  think, 
one  of  the  most  faultless  persons  I  ever  knew. 

Mr.  Benson  and  I  soon  discovered  how  much  we 
agreed  in  our  opinions  upon  the  great  subjects  of  war, 
intemperance,  and  popular  education.  He  was  con 
versant  with  most  of  the  best  Quaker  and  other  writers 
upon  those  subjects,  and  helped  me  much  to  define  and 
settle  my  opinions.  We  succeeded  in  interesting  so 
many  persons  in  our  views  of  war,  persons  not  only 


BROOKLYN,    CONN.,   CONCLUDED.  115 

of  Brooklyn,  but  of  several  other  towns,  that  in  August, 
1826,  we  called  a  county  meeting  of  the  friends  of 
peace,  and  succeeded  in  forming  the  Windhara  County 
Peace  Society,  which  continued  its  operations  so  long 
as  I  remained  in  Connecticut.  Mr.  Benson  was  the 
President :  I  was  the  Corresponding  Secretary.  We 
distributed  a  great  many  tracts,  and  held  meetings  in 
most  of  the  towns  of  the  county. 

„  I  opened  correspondence  with  many  of  the  promi 
nent  friends  of  peace  in  this  country  and  in  England, 
with  John  Bevans,  Rev.  James  Hargreaves  of  London, 
and  Dr.  Thomas  Hancock  of  Liverpool,  and  with  Dr. 
Noah  Worcester  of  Brighton,  Hon.  Thomas  S.  Grimke 
of  Charleston,  S.C.,  William  Ladd  of  Minot,  Maine, 
and  Joshua  P.  Blanchard,  of  Boston.  Through  them 
I  obtained  the  best  English  as  well  as  American 
publications  on  the  subject,  for  my  own  use  and  for 
circulation. 

The  first  pamphlet  I  ever  published  was  an  "  Exposi 
tion  of  the  Sentiments  and  Purposes  of  the  Wind- 
ham  County  Peace  Society,"  in  the  fall  of  1826. 

My  correspondence  with  Mr.  Ladd  and  Mr.  Grimke 
was  more  frequent  than  with  any  others,  and  was  par 
ticularly  valuable.  In  the  summer  of  1827  Mr.  Ladd 
came  to  visit  me.  He  spent  a  week  or  more  in  my 
family.  He  lectured  several  times  in  Brooklyn  and  the 
neighborhood,  and  converted  many  to  our  faith,  and 
confirmed  the  brethren.  He  was  a  large,  coarse-looking 
man,  but  refined  and  delicate  in  all  his  feelings.  He 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

was  well  educated  and  well  informed.  After  leaving 
college,  he  led  a  seafaring  life  for  a  number  of  years, 
and  thus  extended  considerably  his  acquaintance  with 
men  and  countries.  Having  inherited  or  acquired  a 
handsome  fortune,  he  retired  upon  a  large  farm  in  Minot, 
Maine,  and  there  for  a  while  devoted  himself  to  agri 
culture,  the  raising  of  cattle,  and  to  his  literary  pursuits. 
The  writings  of  Dr.  Worcester  arrested  his  attention, 
wrought  a  deep  conviction  in  his  heart,  and  brought  him 
from  his  retirement  to  be  a  public  lecturer  upon  the 
criminality  of  the  custom  of  war.  His  style  of  writing 
was  piquant  and  racy.  He  was  forcible  in  argument, 
happy  in  illustration,  often  witty,  and  sometimes  sarcas 
tic.  Although  there  was  no  grace  in  his  delivery,  he 
never  failed  to  secure  attention,  and  make  a  deep  im 
pression. 

Mr.  Ladd  was  one  of  the  most  kind-hearted  and 
genial  men  I  ever  knew.  His  laugh  was  loud  and  very 
contagious,  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  be  with  him 
without  having  a  merry  time.  He  was,  however,  a 
truly,  devoutly  religious  man,  and  rather  Orthodox. 

His  visit  continued,  as  I  have  said,  through  six 
or  seven  days,  and  was  most  grateful  to  me  and  my 
family.  AV^e  had  a  great  deal  of  conversation  on  several 
subjects  of  great  interest.  I  heard  all  his  lectures.  He 
heard  me  preach,  and  he  took  part  with  me  in  our 
morning  and  evening  devotions.  How,  then,  was  I 
surprised  at  the  change  which  came  over  him  on  the 
morning  of  his  departure!  We  had  taken  breakfast 
together,  and  had  retired  to  my  study  to  wait  several 


BROOKLYN,    CONN.,   CONCLUDED.  117 

hours  for  the  stage-coach.  After  a  while,  his  counte 
nance  assumed  a  grave,  not  to  say  a  dark,  look,  and  in 
an  altered  tone  he  addressed  me  thus :  "  Mr.  May,  I 
have  passed  a  very  pleasant,  and,  I  hope,  a  profitable, 
week  with  you,  profitable  to  ourselves,  and  to  the 
great  Christian  reform  in  which  we  are  both  so  much 
engaged.  We  have  conversed,  too,  upon  other  impor 
tant  topics;  but  there  is  one  subject  upon  which  I  have 
not  said  to  you  what  I  ought.  I  cannot  leave  you 
without  expressing  my  utter  disapprobation,  my  dread 
of  your  doctrinal  opinions,  and  the  false  foundation 
upon  which,  I  fear,  you  are  resting  your  religious 
hopes."  I  soon  perceived  what  was  coming.  So  I 
threw  into  my  countenance  a  demure  expression,  and 
put  myself  into  the  most  receptive  attitude.  He  went 
on,  warming  as  he  went,  in  condemnation  of  what 
he  considered  the  dangerous,  ay,  damnable,  errors  of 
Unitarianism,  until  he  had  wrought  himself  into  a 
glow  of  holy  horror. 

When  he  ceased,  I  looked  up  and  said,  "  I  thank  you 
for  what  doubtless  was  intended  for  my  good.  I  honor 
you  for  your  fidelity  to  your  convictions.  I  mean  to  be 
equally  faithful  to  my  own.  And  I  know  not  how  I 
can  better  evince  my  gratitude  for  your  faithfulness  to 
me,  than  by  being  equally  faithful  to  you  in  return." 
Then  I  set  before  him,  as  plainly  as  possible,  my  view 
of  the  Orthodox  system  of  doctrines  and  "  scheme  of 
salvation,"  showing  him  how  utterly  derogatory  to 
God  and  discouraging  to  man  they  seemed  to  rne ;  and 
that  I  did  not  dread  his  doctrinal  opinions  any  less 
than  he  did  mine. 


118 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


He  conld  hardly  wait  for  me  to  finish  what  I  had  to 
say,  when  he  replied,  "  You  have  served  me  right.  It 
is  just  as  proper  for  you  to  denounce  my  religious  belief 
as  for  me  to  denounce  yours.  I  doubt  not  you  are  as 
sincere  in  your  belief  of  what  seems  to  me  dangerous 
error,  as  I  am  in  my  belief  of  what  seems  to  you  danger 
ous  error.  I  consent  to  what  you  say  about  the  test  of 
the  Christian  character.  He  only  ought  to  be  accounted 
a  Christian  (whatever  be  the  faith  he  professes),  who 
manifests  the  spirit  of  Jesus,  and  is  laboring  to  accom 
plish  the  work  of  the  Lord,  the  redemption  of  mankind 
from  ignorance,  sin,  and  misery.  And  "  he  added,  with 
one  of  his  hearty  laughs,  "  I  have  no  doubt  that  your  heart 
will  go  to  heaven,  whatever  may  become  of  your  head." 
Thus  ended  our  only  talk  about  theological  opinions. 
Our  friendship  continued,  and,  I  believe,  grew  stronger 
until  his  death,  increased  by  the  not  infrequent  ex 
change  of  letters,  and  an  occasional  interview.  He 
devoted  the  last  ten  or  fifteen  years  of  his  life  to  the 
dissemination  of  the  pacific  principles  of  the  Gospel ; 
and,  at  his  death,  bequeathed  to  the  American  Peace 
Society  the  bulk  of  his  property. 

In  the  spring  of  1827,  our  School  Committee  had 
become  fully  aware  of  the  defects  of  our  common 
schools  in  Brooklyn  and  all  that  region  of  the  State ; 
and  suspecting  that  they  were  as  numerous  and  glaring 
in  other  parts  of  Connecticut,  they  determined  to  call 
the  attention  of  the  public  generally  to  the  subject. 
Accordingly  we  issued  a  circular  letter,  inviting  the 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.,- CONCLUDED. 

people  to  send  delegates  to  a  State  Convention  in 
Brooklyn,  for  the  purpose  of  considering  the  character 
and  condition  of  our  common  schools.  I  prepared  a 
series  of  questions,  which  were  printed  in  the  circular, 
answers  to  which  would  elicit  the  information  desired, 
and  would  show  the  people  of  Connecticut  that  they 
had  no  reason  to  be  satisfied  with,  much  less  to  be 
proud  of,  their  system  of  public  instruction. 

Copies  of  the  circular  were  sent  into  every  town  in 
the  State,  addressed  to  the  School  Committees  and  to 
individuals,  who,  it  was  fairly  presumed,  would  appre 
ciate  the  importance  of  such  a  convention.  They  were 
earnestly  requested,  if  they  could  not  come  in  person 
to  the  meeting,  to  favor  us  with  full  and  exact  replies 
to  all  our  questions,  and  with  such  remarks  respecting 
the  schools  in  their  several  towns,  or  the  State  system 
of  public  instruction,  as  their  experience  or  observation 
might  suggest. 

The  Convention  was  held  about  the  middle  of  May 
(after  planting  was  over  and  before  the  hoeing  season  had 
commenced).  The  attendance  was  large  of  delegates 
from  the  towns  in  Windham  and  the  adjoining  counties. 
There  were  but  few  from  a  greater  distance,  but  a 
number  of  interesting  and  valuable  letters  were  re 
ceived. 

In  order  to  unseal  the  lips  of  all  present,  and  get  from 
them  all  they  knew  about  the  condition  of  the  schools 
in  their  several  towns,  I  commenced  the  business  of  the 
meeting  by  a  full,  unsparing  exposure  of  the  low  state 
of  the  schools  in  Brooklyn,  which  were  reputed  to  be 


120 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


better  than  the  schools  generally  in  that  part  of  Con 
necticut.  The  statements  that  I  made  were  by  no 
means  so  creditable  as  my  fellow-townsmen  expected. 
On  the  whole,  the  picture  that  I  gave  of  our  schools 
was  quite  a  sorry  one;  and  many  looks  of  mortification, 
displeasure,  and  almost  anger,  were  thrown  at  me  from 
one  and  another  of  my  neighbors,  who  were  jealous  for 
the  reputation  of  our  town.  But  their  ill  feelings  were 
somewhat  allayed  by  what  they  afterwards  heard.  My 
frank  exposure  of  the  poor  condition  of  our  schools 
brought  out  from  most  of  the  members  of  the  Conven 
tion  equally  plain  statements  respecting  the  schools  in 
their  towns ;  so  that,  if  I  had  shown  our  Brooklyn  schools 
to  be  far  inferior  to  what  they  ought  to  be,  it  was  made 
to  appear  that  the  character  and  condition  of  the 
schools  in  most  other  towns  were  still  worse. 

The  result  of  the  Convention  was  an  earnest  address 
to  our  fellow-citizens  of  the  State  of  Connecticut,  im 
ploring  their  prompt  attention  to  our  system  of  public 
instruction ;  and  intimating  that  the  institution  of  the 
large  fund  for  the  support  of  the  Common  Schools,  one 
of  the  boasts  of  the  State,  had,  in  some  respects,  operated 
unfavorably  to  them.  The  income  from  it  was  so  large 
as  to  induce  the  feeling  among  the  people  generally 
that  no  more  need  be,  or  ought  to  be,  appropriated  to 
the  cause  of  popular  education.  It  was  indeed  large 
enough  to  keep  the  schools  going,  such  as  they  were, 
but  by  no  means  sufficient  to  make  the  improvements 
in  them  which  were  obviously  needed,  nor  sufficient  to 
offer  to  instructors  such  compensations  as  would  induce 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.,   CONCLUDED.  121 

or  enable  the  best  qualified  persons  to  devote  themselves 
to  this  most  important  service. 

I  am  unable  to  say  what  effects  were  produced  in 
other  parts  of  the  State  by  our  appeal.  But  in  Wind- 
ham  County,  and  throughout  the  eastern  half  of  Con 
necticut,  the  public  attention  was  certainly  roused  to 
the  subject.  We  continued  to  hold,  so  long  as  I  re 
mained  there,  annual  County  School  Conventions,  which 
proposed  and  helped  to  introduce  sundry  important 
improvements.  Similar  meetings  were  held  in  other 
counties. 

Hon.  Henry  Barnard,  who  has  done  so  much  and 
labored  so  many  years  in  the  cause  of  popular  education, 
informed  me,  ten  or  twelve  years  ago,  that  his  diligent 
researches  into  the  history  of  our  systems  of  popular 
education,  had  failed  to  discover  any  convention  of 
the  people  on  the  subject,  prior  to  the  one  of  which  I 
have  above  given  some  account. 

Of  all  the  letters  received  in  answer  to  our  circular, 
the  most  important  was  one  from  Dr.  William  A.  Alcott, 
subsequently  the  author  of  "  The  House  I  live  in,"  and 
other  popular  books  on  physical  training  and  moral  cult 
ure.  He  was  then  living  in  Wolcott,  a  small  town  in 
New  Haven  County.  He  was  a  philosopher  and  a  philan 
thropist.  He  had  seen  so  much  quackery  in  his  own  (the 
medical)  profession,  and  also  in  the  ministerial,  that  he 
had  become  rather  disgusted  with  both,  and  was  zealous 
for  radical  reforms  in  education,  religion,  and  social  life. 
He  wrote,  not  only  to  assure  us  of  his  lively  interest  in 
the  object  of  our  convention,  and  to  inform  us  of  the  char- 
6 


122  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

acter  of  the  schools  generally  in  his  neighborhood  ;  but  to 
give  us  some  account  of  a  remarkable  school,  kept  on 
a  very  original  plan,  in  the  adjoining  town  of  Cheshire, 
by  his  kinsman,  Mr.  Amos  Bronson  Alcott.  His  account 
excited  so  much  my  curiosity  to  know  more  of  the 
American  Pestalozzi,  as  he  has  since  been  called,  that  I 
wrote  immediately  to  Mr.  A.  B.  Alcott,  begging  him  to 
send  me  a  detailed  statement  of  his  principles  and  meth 
ods  of  teaching  and  of  training  children.  In  due  time 
came  to  me  a  full  account  of  the  school  of  Cheshire, 
which  revealed  such  a  depth  of  insight  into  the  nature  of 
man,  such  a  true  sympathy  with  children,  such  profound 
appreciation  of  the  work  of  education,  and  withal  so  phil 
osophically  arranged  and  exquisitely  written,  that  I  at 
once  felt  assured  the  man  must  be  a  genius,  and  that  I 
must  know  him  more  intimately.  So  I  wrote,  inviting 
him  urgently  to  visit  me.  I  also  sent  the  account  of 
his  school  to  Mr.  William  Russell,  in  Boston,  then  edit 
ing  the  first  Journal  of  Education  ever  published  in 
our  country.  Mr.  Russell  thought  as  highly  of  the 
article  as  I  did,  and  gave  it  to  the  public  in  his  next 
October  number. 

Mr.  Alcott  accepted  my  invitation.  He  came  and 
passed  a  week  with  me  before  the  close  of  the  summer. 
I  have  never,  but  in  one  other  instance,  been  so  imme 
diately  taken  possession  of  by  any  man  I  have  ever 
met  in  life.  He  seemed  to  me  like  a  born  sage  and 
saint.  He  w^as  radical  in  all  matters  of  reform; 
went  to  the  root  of  all  things,  especially  the  subjects  of 
education,  mental  and  moral  culture.  If  his  biography 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.,    CONCLUDED.  123 

shall  ever  be  written  by  one  who  can  appreciate  him, 
and  especially  if  his  voluminous  writings  shall  be 
properly  published,  it  will  be  known  how  unique  he 
was  in  wisdom  and  purity. 

My  sister  Abigail  was  in  my  family  at  the  time.  I 
soon  saw  the  indications  of  a  mutual  attraction,  which 
afterwards  became  a  strong  attachment,  that  was  ce 
mented  on  the  23d  of  May,  1830,  by  their  marriage. 
Louisa  May  Alcott,  the  author  of  "  Little  Women,"  is 
their  daughter. 

It  was,  I  think,  in  1828,  that  Mr.  Josiah  Holbrook 
commenced  his  enterprise,  the  institution  of  the  "  Amer 
ican  Lyceum."  The  great  design  of  it  was  to  pop 
ularize  the  knowledge  of  natural  history,  and  of  the 
physical  sciences.  He  came  and  spent  some  time 
with  me.  He  lectured  in  Brooklyn  and  in  the  neigh 
boring  towns.  We  formed  a  lyceum,  and  several 
others  were  formed  in  the  county.  I  entered  into  the 
work  heartily,  and  delivered  quite  a  number  of  lectures 
during  several  successive  winters,  in  Brooklyn  and  in 
other  towns.  My  first  lecture  was  upon  the  Common 
Errors  in  Education,  delivered  on  the  22d  of  October, 
1828.  It  was  published  in  the  "  Brooklyn  Advertiser : " 
republished  by  Mr.  Russell  in  his  "Journal  cf  Educa 
tion  ; "  and,  from  his  types,  an  edition  was  printed  in 
pamphlet  form,  which  was,  I  believe,  the  second  of  my 
book  publications. 

Here,  I  may  as  well  record  an  account  of  one  of 
my  naughty  deeds,  of  which  I  do  not,  even  now,  feel 


124  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

so  much  ashamed  as  perhaps  I  ought  to.  In  the  spring 
of  1830,  my  wife  not  being  in  good  health,  and  having, 
withal,  a  young  child,  I  sold  an  ugly  horse  that  I  had 
owned  a  few  months,  and  made  diligent  inquiry  for  a 
sound,  well-trained,  perfectly  safe  horse,  that  my  timid 
wife  would  not  be  afraid  to  ride  about  with,  driven  by 
her  sister  or  our  hired  girl.  At  length  a  man,  one  of 
my  Society,  came  and  oifered  me  his  horse.  He  was 
not  by  any  means  a  good-looking  animal;  but  the 
owner  assured  me  that  he  had  been  worn  down  by 
bard  work,  that  all  his  moral  qualities  were  just  what  I 
wanted  them  to  be,  and  that  his  physical  qualities  and 
his  appearance  would  certainly  improve  under  my 
keeping  and  with  my  usage.  Said  I  to  him,  "  I  know 
nothing  about  a  horse.  I  must  rely  wholly  upon  your 
statements.  If  I  buy  him,  it  will  be  on  your  assurance 
that  he  is  an  animal  such  as  I  have  advertised  for." 
"  You  may  do  so,"  he  replied,  "  and  I  know  that  in  a 
few  weeks  you  will  be  entirely  satisfied."  So  I  bought 
the  horse.  But,  alas!  he  proved  to  be  a  miserable 
creature,  —  so  weak  that  he  could  scarcely  drag  my 
chaise  up  a  decent  hill;  afraid  of  every  thing,  and 
obstinate  withal.  I  was  provoked.  I  had  been  egre- 
giously  cheated,  and  all  my  neighbors  knew  it.  So  I 
watched  my  opportunity  to  make  the  man  ashamed  of 
himself.  It  came  before  long. 

Early  the  ensuing  winter,  I  commenced  our  lyceum 
lectures  by  a  course  of  twelve  on  natural  philosophy. 
I  often  had  occasion  to  speak  of  so  much  "  horse-power." 
Whenever  or  several  times  when  the  horse-jockey  was 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.,   CONCLUDED.  125 

present,  I  remarked  parenthetically,  on  using  the  term 
"  horse-power,"  "  I  do  not  mean  my  horse,  for  you  all 
know  he  has  no  power."  This,  of  course,  always 
"brought  down"  the  house  in  expressions  that  were 
not  complimentary  to  the  man  who  had  cheated  me. 

In  January  or  February  of  1828, 1  received  an  invita 
tion  from  a  number  of  gentlemen  in  Providence,  R.I., 
inviting  me  to  come  to  that  city  and  attempt  the 
gathering  and  institution  of  a -second  Unitarian  Church, 
assuring  me  that  another  was  greatly  needed.  I  ac 
cepted  the  invitation.  Accordingly  they  hired  the  old 
Richmond  Street  meeting-house,  which  had  been  recently 
vacated,  the  Orthodox  Church  having  taken  possession 
of  their  new  house.  I  went,  and  preached  four  or  five 
Sundays.  I  then  received  an  urgent  "call"  to  settle 
as  their  pastor,  with  the  promise  that  they  would  imme 
diately  build  a  new  and  commodious  house.  The  call 
was  signed  by  more  than  eighty  gentlemen,  many  of 
whom  I  knew  to  be  men  of  excellent  character,  of  great 
earnestness  of  purpose,  and  of  property  enough  to 
support  me  handsomely  without  burdening  themselves. 

The  offer  was  a  very  tempting  one.  I  had,  from  the 
first,  found  it  difficult  to  live  on  the  small  salary  paid 
me  by  the  Church  of  Brooklyn ;  and  the  tardiness  with 
which  that  had  been  paid  during  the  past  two  years  had 
subjected  me  frequently  to  great  inconvenience.  In 
deed,  I  had  been  obliged  to  give  the  committee  notice 
that,  unless  my  salary  could  be  paid  more  punctually 
every  quarter,  I  should  be  obliged  to  resign  my  place 


126  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

as  their  minister,  and  seek  a  home  elsewhere.  My 
father  and  family  had  repeatedly  urged  me  to  relinquish 
my  attempt  to  build  up  a  Unitarian  Church  in  Brook 
lyn,  and  expend  myself  in  some  wider  and  more  prom 
ising  field.  But  my  feelings  respecting  the  duty  of  a 
minister  of  the  gospel  revolted  at  the  thought  of  with 
drawing  my  plough  from  a  spot  that  needed  to  be 
cultivated,  because  it  was  difficult  and  the  remuneration 
small.  Now,  however,  that  a  call  had  come  to  me  so 
unexpectedly  from  a  place  where  so  much  needed  to  be 
done,  and  obviously  could  be  done,  in  the  cause  of  true 
Christianity,  I  was  shaken  in  my  determination.  I 
would  not  consult  my  father  and  friends  in  Boston, 
because  I  knew  what  their  decision  would  be.  My 
wife  would  not  influence  me  one  way  or  the  other; 
because,  she  said,  it  was  a  question  which  a  minister 
ought  to  settle  for  himself.  I  could  not  find  to  which 
place  she  inclined  for  her  own  and  the  children's  sake. 
Repeatedly,  in  her  most  unguarded  moments,  I  put 
questions  to  her  which  had  only  a  remote  connection 
with  the  prominent  one  in  my  mind;  but  she  was 
quick  to  discern  their  bearing,  and  was  so  adroit  in  her 
replies  that  I  could  not  perceive  to  which  side  she 
really  inclined. 

But  it  was  known  throughout  the  Society  that  I  had 
received  a  call  to  the  new  church  in  Providence,  and 
the  members  roused  themselves  with  one  accord  to 
dissuade  me  from  accepting  it.  They  gave  me  the 
strongest  assurance  that  my  salary  should  be  promptly 
paid.  Thev  moreover  offered  to  assist  me  to  build  a 


BROOKLYN,   CONN.,  CONCLUDED. 


127 


house,  in  materials,  labor,  and  money  to  the  amount 
of  eight  hundred  or  one  thousand  dollars.  And  good 
Mr.  Benson  proposed  to  give  me  a  very  desirable  build 
ing  lot,  an  acre  or  more,  near  <his  house.  The  anxiety 
of  the  people,  so  emphatically  expressed,  and  their 
apprehension  that  the  Church  would  go  down  if  I  left 
them,  induced  me  to  decide  to  remain  in  Brooklyn. 

So  in  the  month  of  April  I  went  to  Providence,  and 
communicated  to  the  new  Church  there  my  determina 
tion  to  decline  their  flattering  invitation,  and  the  rea 
sons  why  I  had  so  decided.  Their  manifestations  of 
regret  were  grateful  to  me,  but  did  not  shake  the 
conclusion  to  which  I  had  come.  They  then  requested 
me  to  find  the  best  young  man  that  was  to  be  obtained, 
for  their  minister.  Thus  commissioned,  I  proceeded 
immediately  to  Cambridge ;  and,  after  consultation  with 
the  professors,  I  concluded  to  invite  Mr.  F.  A.  Farley 
(now  the  Rev.  Dr.  Farley,  of  Brooklyn,  New  York). 
He  went  to  Providence,  and  preached  several  Sundays 
to  the  new  Church.  They  were  pleased  with  him, 
gave  him  a  unanimous  call,  and  he  was  ordained  on 
the  tenth  day  of  the  following  September.  Dr.  Chan- 
nmg  preached  one  of  his  admirable  sermons.  I  deliv 
ered  the  address  to  the  people,  which  was  published 
in  the  next  January  number  of  the  "  Unitarian  Advo 
cate." 

I  returned  to  Brooklyn  somewhat  sad,  not  being  sure 
that  I  had  not  lost  the  golden  opportunity  to  improve 
greatly  my  own  and  the  condition  of  my  family,  and  at 
the  same  time  do  even  more  in  the  cause  of  true 


128  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Christianity.  Nevertheless,  I  had  made  my  choice,  and 
I  resolved  to  see  what  would  come  of  it  in  the  good 
providence  of  God.  I  felt  that  I  had  now  planted 
myself  for  life  in  Connecticut.  I  set  about  driving 
deeper  my  stakes,  and  making  surer  my  foundation ; 
and  even  selected  a  spot  in  the  burial-ground,  where  I 
would  have  my  body  deposited  when  life's  labor  should 
be  done. 

In  order  to  insure  the  payment  of  my  salary,  it  was 
proposed  that  a  fund  should  be  created,  the  interest  of 
which  should  partly  defray  the  annual  expenses  of  the 
Church.  This  was  done.  Our  friends  in  Massachusetts 
contributed  something.  We  funded,  in  all,  enough  to 
yield  us  about  two  hundred  dollars  a  year.  With  this 
aid  it  was  thought  we  should  get  on  without  much 
further  difficulty.  Soon  after,  the  members  of  the 
Society  began  to  take  measures  to  help  me  build  my 
house.  This  was  accomplished  honorably  on  their 
part,  and  with  the  assistance  of  six  hundred  dollars 
loaned  me  by  my  father.  I  have  already,  in  another 
place,  stated  that  it  was  done  in  the  course  of  the  year 
1829.  We  took  possession  of  our  new  home  late  in 
the  month  of  November. 


CHAPTER  X. 

FROM  THE  DIAEY. 

A  DISAPPOINTMENT  WELL  BORNE.  —  NEW  YEAR'S  MEDITA 
TIONS. —  FITNESS  FOR  THE  MINISTRY.  —  SECTARIANISM.— 
TWENTY-FIVE  YEARS  OLD.  —  ORDINATION  OF  A  TRINITA 
RIAN  MINISTER. — DEATH  OF  HIS  MOTHER,  SISTER,  AND 
CHILD. — ANNIVERSARY  OF  MARRIAGE. —  THE  LIFE  OF 
HOWARD. — A  PRAYER.  —  EDITORIAL  WORK. — A  REVIVAL. 
"COMING  TO  CHRIST." 

TOESIDES  the  autobiographical  fragment  which 
-*— *  ended  with  the  last  chapter,  Mr.  May  left  a  diary 
which  was  begun  in  November,  1821,  and  continued, 
with  varying  fulness,  through  the  next  twenty  years. 
It  was  evidently  intended  to  be  read  by  no  eyes  except 
his  own.  The  autobiography  gives  so  few  dates,  that 
it  has  been  found  impracticable  to  insert  passages  from 
the  diary  at  appropriate  places,  and  therefore  we  must 
give  our  extracts  from  it  by  themselves.  One  of  the 
earliest  entries  relates  to  his  feelings  upon  learning  that 
he  would  not  receive  a  call  to  New  York  city  where  he 
had  preached  as  a  "  candidate." 

November  18,  1821.  —  Two  days  since  news  arrived 
in  town  that  the  parish  in  New  York  have  given 
William  Ware  a  call.  Many  circumstances  have  made 
it  probable  that  the  choice  would  fall  upon  Ware  or 
myself.  The  i  eception  I  met  with  when  there  led  me 
6*  i 


130  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

to  think  the  probabilities  rather  in  my  favor.  It  18 
natural  that  I  should  have  a  feeling  something  like 

O  O 

disappointment,  and  a  wish  involuntarily  arises  to 
know  the  grounds  of  the  preference  which  has  thus 
been  expressed.  Not  that  I  feel  at  all  underrated  to  be 
considered  second  to  Ware.  I  have  known  him  well 
several  years.  In  the  circle  of  my  acquaintances  I 
know  but  two  or  three,  if  any,  so  free  from  defects.  In 
such  a  city  as  New  York  there  is  little  doubt  of  his 
rapid  improvement.  There  will  be  a  constant  demand 
for  his  utmost  exertion,  and  like  pure  metal  he  will 
grow  brighter  with  use.  I  love  Ware ;  and,  although  it 
is  at  the  expense  of  my  own  disappointment,  I  do 
rejoice  in  his  success. 

January  1/1822.  —  Another  year  has  passed  more 
rapidly  and  eventfully  than  any  previous  one  of  my 
life.  The  great  inquiry  arises,  Has  any  advancement 
been  made  in  the  high  purpose  of  my  being  ?  Am  I  a 
better  Christian?  Am  I  better  qualified  to  teach  by 
my  example  and  instructions  the  religion  of  which  I  am 
a  minister  ?  Do  I  understand  any  better  the  character 
and  gospel  of  Christ,  and  do  I  possess  any  more  of  its 
spirit  ?  These  inquiries  lead  me  to  review  my  studies 
and  the  effect  of  events  upon  my  mind  and  heart. 

The  circumstances  of  several  parishes  to  which  I 
have  preached  rendered  it  expedient  to  turn  my  atten 
tion  to  controverted  subjects.  It  has  been  my  aim  to 
avoid  every  thing  harsh  when  speaking  of  the  opinions 


FROM  THE  DIARY.  131 

of  other  sects,  and  to  illustrate  my  own  views  as  plainly 
and  forcibly  as  possible.  I  trust  I  have  not  often,  if 
ever,  discovered  an  uncharitable  temper.  The  real 
feeling  of  my  heart  is  not  so  much  zeal  for  the  spread 
of  the  Unitarian  doctrines,  as  an  earnest  desire  to 
diffuse  throughout  the  Christian  community  the  idea 
that  religion  is  something  practical,  and  that,  as  to  the 
sentiments  we  may  adopt,  we  have  all  a  right  to  judge 
for  ourselves. 

Brooklyn,  Conn.,  March  18,  1822.  — On  the  5th  inst. 
my  sister  Eliza  (Mrs.  Willis,  of  Portland)  died.  She 
was  generous  and  affectionate,  rigidly  faithful  in  the 
discharge  of  her  duty,  and  was  supported  and  cheered 
by  a  fervent  and  rational  piety.  Our  whole  family  are 
much  depressed.  My  parents  have  now  buried  their 
eighth  child.  Four  only  are  left.  It  would  have  been 
a  comfort  to  them  and  delightful  to  me  could  I  have 
been  established  near  them ;  but  Providence  has  ordered 
otherwise,  at  least  for  the  present.  I  pray  that  I  may 
labor  with  my  might  and  with  good  success  in  this 
place.  But  the  duty  is  mine,  the  event  is  with  God. 

Yesterday  afternoon  I  preached  from  the  fourteenth 
chapter  of  Romans.  I  took  occasion  in  this  discourse, 
and  not  without  a  very  visible  effect,  to  speak  to  them 
respecting  the  unhappy  divisions  in  the  town.  I  asked 
if  they  had  not  been  in  fault ;  exhorted  them  to  exam 
ine  their  own  conduct,  and  see  if  they  had  not  offended 
against  Christian  charity ;  not  to  seek  for  palliations  for 
their  actions,  but  to  be  willing  to  discover  their  own 


132  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

errors,  and  reasons  to  think  and  feel  more  favorably 
towards  their  fellow  Christians. 

September  12,  1822.  —  To-day  completes  my  twenty- 
fifth  year.  I  seem  now  to  have  entered  in  good  earnest 
upon  the  duties  of  life,  and  at  times  I  really  feel  op 
pressed  with  care  and  responsibility.  It  is  six  months 
since  I  undertook  the  care  of  the  parish  in  Brooklyn. 
Providence  has  placed  me  among  this  people,  and  I  do 
not  see  how  I  can  leave  them  without  deserting  the 
post  of  duty. 

April  14,  1824.  —  This  day  has  witnessed  the  ordina 
tion  of  Rev.  Ambrose  Edson  as  pastor  of  the  First 
Trinitarian,  Church  and  Society  in  this  town.  This 
name  denominates  those  who.  several  years  ago,  seceded 
from  the  society  of  which  I  am  now  pastor.  They  are, 
of  course,  opposed  to  us,  and  it  is  too  true  the  opposi 
tion  is  bitter.  But  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  con 
sidering  this  man  my  enemy.  It  is  my  wish  to  make 
him  my  .friend,  and  to  be  a  fellow-laborer.  What 
course  he  means  to  pursue  I  know  not.  I  mean  to 
treat  him,  if  possible,  with  affectionate  kindness.  If 
he  is  an  instrument  for  the  promotion  of  religion  in  this 
place,  I  ought  to  rejoice;  yes,  if  while  he  increases 
I  must  decrease. 

November  5.  —  This  day  received  the  painful  tidings 
of  my  mother's  death.  She  died  October  31.  Her 
children,  the  sick,  and  the  unfortunate  knew  her  worth 


FROM  THE  DIARY. 


133 


in  this  world,  and  in  the  world  whither  she  has  gone 
we  shall  rise  and  call  her  blessed. 

November  14,  1828.  — This  day  my  sister,  Mrs. 
Louisa  Greele,  finished  her  mortal  life.  She  had  been 
sick  only  about  a  week. 

December  9.  —  I  went  to  Boston  to  see  and  condole 
jwith  my  father  and  Abby. 

December  14.  — While  sitting  in  my  chamber  be 
tween  the  hours  of  public  worship,  and  preparing  my- 
self  to  preach  at  the  Chapel  in  the  afternoon,  my  father 
came  into  the  room  and  announced  to  me  the  heart 
rending  intelligence  that  my  own  little  Joseph,  my 
first-born,  my  only  son,  was  no  more.  He  died  on  the 
twelfth,  of  croup.  When  I  left  him  he  was  apparently 
as  well  as  usual.  I  hurried  home  with  a  brain  almost 
bewildered;  reached  Brooklyn  on  Monday  at  eleven, 
and  found  it  too  true. 

December  31,  1828.  — This  night  closes  the  present 
year,  a  most  eventful  year  it  has  been  to  me.  I  wish  to 
review  it  calmly. 

The  most  prominent  event  in  the  past  year  is  the 
death  of  my  child.  The  birth  of  this  little  being 
awakened  in  my  bosom  a  set  of  affections  wholly  new. 
All  our  recollections  of  him  are  delightful.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  infant  children  are  removed  to  a  state 
of  higher  felicity.  But  after  all  the  considerations  that 


134  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

may  be  urged,  there  are  some  things  inexplicable  in  the 
physical  sufferings  and  death  of  a  young  child.  I  do 
not  entertain  a  doubt  that  they  are  all  directed  by 
Infinite  Wisdom  and  Love,  but  the  reasonableness  of 
such  dispensations  is  beyond  our  ken. 

The  death  of  my  sister  Louisa  is  another  event  which 
lias  thrown  its  shade  over  the  past  year.  Her  peculiar 
characteristics  had  made  her  a  prominent  one  among 
us.  She  was  generous,  energetic,  and  affectionate.  She 
was  upright,  judicious,  and  engaging.  We  all  loved 
her,  and  we  were  not  a  little  proud  of  her. 

I  pray  God  that  these  impressive  lessons  may  sink 
deeply  into  my  heart,  and  induce  me  from  this  time  forth 
to,  lead  a  life  of  greater  holiness  and  devotion  to  his 
will  and  the  happiness  of  my  fellow-men. 

June  1,  1829.  —  This  day  is  the  anniversary  of  my 
marriage.  Four  years  ago  I  was  united  in  this  holy 
relation,  and  I  can  bear  a  grateful  testimony  to  it8 
influence  upon  my  happiness.  My  wife's  is  a  mind  of 
singular  purity,  the  utmost  tenderness  of  conscience, 
and  disinterestedness  of  purpose. 

June  16,  1831.  —  I  have  just  finished  reading  the 
"  Life  of  Howard,"  by  James  B.  Brown.  Of  no  man 
who  has  lived  since  the  days  of  Christ  can  it  be  more 
truly  said,  "  He  went  about  doing  good.  It  was  his 
meat  and  drink  to  do  his  Father's  will."  God  grant 
that  the  perusal  of  this  volume  may  inspire  me  with 
greater  ardor  in  the  cause  of  suffering  humanity.  May 


FROM  THE  DIARY.  135 

I  never  be  disheartened  from  attempting  a  project  of 
benevolence,  however  many  or  great  may  be  the  dis 
couragements  and  dangers. 

June,  1 832.  —  O  God,  the  Father  of  my  spirit,  thou 
knowest  how  much  I  desire  to  be  a  follower  of  thee,  as 
a  dear  child.  Thou  knowest  how  wretchedly  I  feel,  I 
am,  when  I  have  sinned  against  thee.  Thou  knowest 
how  heartfelt  is  my  delight  when  I  have  obeyed  thy 
will,  especially  when  I  have  made  a  successful  struggle 
against  the  enemies  of  my  virtue.  And  O  Thou  from 
whom  my  help  cometh,  to  thee  is  known  how  strong 
my  temptations  often  are.  To  thee  I  look  up  in 
fervent  prayer.  Assist  me  to  keep  a  more  vigilant 
watch  against  the  first  approach  of  sin.  May  I  be 
more  continually  on  my  guard,  watching  unto  prayer. 
Let  no  sin  have  dominion  over  me.  Give  me  wisdom 
to  discern  clearly  the  heinousness  of  the  offences  I  am 
sometimes  tempted  to  commit,  and  aid  me  to  flee  from 
the  first  approach  of  evil. 

December  31, 1832.  —  Since  last  April  I  have  been  the 
editor  of  a  paper,  "  The  Christian  Monitor  and  Com 
mon  People's  Adviser."  Its  object  is  to  promote  the 
free  discussion  of  all  subjects  connected  with  happiness 
and  holiness.  The  success  of  it  has  been  as  great  as  I 
could  expect. 

January  4,  1833.  —  Since  the  first  of  the  month 
there  has  been  in  this  village  a  protracted  meeting  held 


136  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

by  the  Orthodox  Society.  I  have  attended  four  times, 
I  have  not  discouraged  my  people  from  going,  but 
quite  otherwise.  I  have  rather  wished  them  to  go. 
Surely,  if  there  is  any  good  to  be  obtained,  I  fervently 
pray  that  my  people  may  share  in  it.  I  feel  too  deeply 
the  momentous  interests  they  have  in  eternity,  to  assume 
to  myself  all  the  responsibility  of  instructing  them. 
I  dare  not  say  to  them,  "I  am  the  only  safe  guide. 
I  alone  am  a  teacher  of  the  truth."  My  wish  is 
that  they  should  hear  what  other  ministers  of  the 
Gospel  may  think,  and  carefully  compare  all  they  hear 
from  others  or  from  myself  with  the  declarations  of 
Scripture. 

None  of  the  gentlemen  that  I  heard  gave  any  explan 
ation  of  their  meaning  when  they  exhorted  their  hearers 
to  "  come  to  Christ."  When  I  exhort  my  people  to 
come  to  Christ,  I  mean  by  it  that  they  should  take  him 
for  their  instructor,  guide,  example.  I  assure  them 
that,  if  they  will  obey  the  precepts  and  copy  the  exam 
ple  of  our  Lord,  they  will  be  saved,  and  not  otherwise. 
On  this  point  I  mean  to  question  some  of  them  before 
the  public. 

Such  is  the  management  at  these  meetings  that  a 
person  must  have  great  strength  of  nerve,  or  a  most 
phlegmatic  temperament,  to  retain  his  self-command  if 
he  submits  himself  to  the  whole  series  of  operations. 
There  is  something  like  manoeuvre  in  this,  which  I  can 
not  approve. 

God  knows  my  heart,  that  I  fervently,  unfeignedly 
desire  the  good  of  this  whole  people.  I  am  not  so 


FROM   THE  DIARY.  137 

anxious  to  have  my  Society  increased  as  I  am  to  have 
true  religion  increase  among  us.  If  I  am  wrong,  I 
pray  that  none  may  be  misled  by  me.  Sometimes  the 
sense  of  responsibility  weighs  so  heavily  upon  me  that 
1  long  to  be  released.  But  imperative  duty  seems  to 
demand  of  me  to  persevere.  I  pray  God  to  direct  me, 
to  guide  me,  to  support  me.  Make  me  useful  to  him  in 
the  cause  of  truth  and  righteousness,  and  not  suffer  ine 
to  live  a  moment  to  do  harm. 


CHAPTER   XI.  • 

ANTISLAVERY 

IMPRESSION  RECEIVED  FROM  DANIEL  WEBSTER'S  ORATION  AI 
PLYMOUTH  IN  1820.  — REV.  JOHN  RANKIN,  OF  KENTUCKY. 

—  BENJAMIN  LUNDY.  — HEARS  WILLIAM  LLOYD  GARRISON. 

—  BECOMES    ONE    OF    HIS    DISCIPLES.  —  SERMON    IN    REV. 
DR.    YOUNG'S    PULPIT.— GREAT    SENSATION.  —  ENTREATS 
MR.    GARRISON    TO    BE    LESS    SEVERE.  —  MR.    GARRISON'S 
NOBLE    REPLY.  — PRUDENCE    CRANDALL'S    SCHOOL.  —  HEE 
PERSECUTIONS.  — MR.    MAY    BECOMES    HER    CHAMPION. — 
PUBLISHES  "THE  UNIONIST."  — Miss  CRANDALL'S  SCHOOL 
ABANDONED.  —  MRS.    L.    M.    CHILD'S     DEDICATION.  —  AT 
TENDS   CONVENTION   CALLED   TO   FORM  A  NATIONAL  ANTI- 
SLAVERY    SOCIETY.  — LETTER    FROM    JOHN    G.    WHITTIER 

CONCERNING  THE  CONVENTION  AND  MR.  MAY.  —  MR.  MAY 

REPROVES  REV.  DR.  CHANNING.  — PRO-SLAVERY  FEELING 
IN  BOSTON.  —  MR.  MAY  GENERAL  AGENT  AND  CORRESPOND 
ING  SECRETARY  OF  THE  MASSACHUSETTS  ANTISLAVERY 
SOCIETY.  — His  MANNER  AS  AN  ANTISLAVERY  LECTURER. 

—  LETTER    FROM    REV.    J.    H.    HJSYWOOD.  —  MR.    MAY    is 
MOBBED.  —  DEFENDS  THE  ABOLITIONISTS  BEFORE   A  JOINT 
COMMITTEE     OF     THE     MASSACHUSETTS     LEGISLATURE. — 
HARRIET  MARTINEAU'S  TRIBUTE. 

TT  was  at  the  very  height  of  the  Missouri  Controversy 
••-  and  of  the  interest  it  had  awakened  in  the  question 
whether  slavery  was  to  become  permanent  in  the 
United  States,  that  Mr.  May  entered  upon  the  labors 
of  his  profession. 

Just  at  the  close  of  1820,  very  soon  after  he  had 
received  the  approbation  of  the  Boston  Association  of 


ANTISLA  VER  Y.  139 

Ministers  as  a  candidate  for  the  Christian  ministry,  he 
preached  at  Springfield,  Mass.,  for  his  particular  friend, 
Rev.  W.  B.  O.  Peabody.  In  his  "  brief  account  of  his 
ministry,"  which  he  gave  in  a  discourse  at  Syracuse, 
when  seventy  years  of  age,  he  said:  — 

"  Tt  is  not  an  insignificant  fact  in  my  history,  that,  though 
:n  the  trepidation  of  the  moment,  my  voice  must  have  been 
very  little  '  like  a  trumpet,'  I  read  in  the  morning  service 
-the  fifty-eighth  chapter  of  Isaiah.  I  know  not  what  prompted 
me  to  do  so,  unless  it  may  have  been  the  impressive  words 
on  slavery  uttered  a  few  days  before  at  Plymouth  by  Dan 
iel  Webster,  whom  I  then  revered  more  than  any  of  our 
statesmen." 

In  that  oration  Mr.  Webster  said  of  the  slave  trade : 
"  I  invoke  the  ministers  of  our  religion,  that  they  pro 
claim  its  denunciation  of  these  crimes,  and  add  its 
solemn  sanctions  to  the  authority  of  human  laws.  If 
the  pulpit  be  silent  whenever  or  wherever  there  may  be 
a  sinner  bloody  with  this  guilt  within  the  hearing  of  its 
voice,  the  pulpit  is  false  to  its  trust." 

A  few  years  later,  about  1825,  Mr.  May  became  deeply 
interested  in  a  book  on  Slavery  by  the  Rev.  John 
Rankin,  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  Kentucky,  ad 
dressed  to  a  brother  in  Virginia  who  had  then  recently 
become  a  slave-holder.  It  denounced  slavery  as  "a 
never-failing  fountain  of  the  grossest  immoralities,  and 
one  of  the  deepest  sources  of  human  misery ;"  insist 
ing  that  "  the  safety  of  our  government  and  the  happi 
ness  of  its  subjects  depended  upon  the  extermination 
of  this  evil." 


140 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


In  the  month  of  June,  1828,  Benjamin  Lundy,  whose 
paper,  "  The  Genius  of  Universal  Emancipation,"  was 
for  a  long  time  nearly  the  only  voice  that  warned  the 
people  of  the  United  States  of  their  guilt  and  peril, 
visited  Brooklyn,  Conn.  Mr.  May  was  deeply  im 
pressed  by  Mr.  Lundy's  exhibition  of  the  wrongs  of 
slavery  and  the  suffering  of  its  victims,  although  he  had 
serious  doubts  of  the  wisdom  and  justice  of  the  pro 
posed  plan  of  removing  the  blacks  to  some  of  the 
unoccupied  territory  of  Texas  or  Mexico.  It  was  not 
until  two  years  later,  however,  that  Mr.  May  listened  to 
one  whose  words  on  this  subject  satisfied  both  his  mind 
and  heart,  and  led  him  to  enlist  "  for  the  war "  in  the 
army  of  freedom. 

"It  so  happened,  in  the  good  Providence  'which  shapes 
our  ends,'  that  I  was  on  a  visit  in  Boston  in  October,  1830. 
An  advertisement  appeared  in  the  newspapers,  that  during 
the  following  week  W.  Lloyd  Garrison  would  deliver  to  the 
public  three  lectures,  in  which  he  would  exhibit  the  sinfulness 
of  slave-holding;  expose  the  duplicity  of  the  Colonization 
Society,  revealing  its  true  character;  and,  in  opposition  to  it, 
would  announce  and  maintain  the  doctrine,  that  immediate, 
nnconditional  emancipation  is  the  right  of  every  slave  and 
the  duty  of  every  master.  The  advertisement  announced 
that  his  lectures  would  be  delivered  on  the  Common,  unless 
some  church  or  commodious  hall  should  be  proffered  to  him 
gratuitously.  If  I  remember  correctly,  it  was  said  that  Mr. 
Garrison  had  applied  for  several  of  the  Boston  churches,  and 
been  refused,  because  it  was  known  that  he  had  become  an 
opponent  of  the  Colonization  Society.  A  day  or  two  after 
the  first,  I  saw  a  second  advertisement,  informing  the  public 
that  the  free  use  of  Julien  Hall,  occupied  by  Rev.  Abner 
KneelancTs  church,  having  been  generously  tendered  to  Mr. 


ANTI  SLAVERY.  141 

Garrison,  he  would  deliver  his  lectures  there  instead  of  on 
the  Common.  I  had  not  then  seen  this  resolute  young  man. 
I  had  been  much  fmpressed  by  some  of  his  writings,  knew  of 
his  connection  wit  ^Mr.  Lundy,  and  had  heard  of  his  impris 
onment  [in  Baltimore,  at  the  suit  of  a  slave-trader  from 
Massachusetts,  whom  he  had  exposed].  Of  course  I  was 
eager  to  see  and  hear  him,  and  went  to  Julien  Hall  in  due 
season  on  the  appointed  evening.  My  brother-in-law,  A. 
Bronsor.  Alcott,  and  my  cousin,  Samuel  E.  Sewall,  accom 
panied  me.  Truer  men  could  not  easily  have  been  found. 

"  The  hall  was  pretty  well  filled.  Among  some  persons 
whom  I  did,  and  many  whom  I  did  not,  know,  I  saw  there 
Rev.  Dr.  Beecher,  Rev.  Mr.  (now  Dr.)  Gannett,  Deacon 
Moses  Grant,  and  John  Tappan,  Esq. 

"  Presently  the  young  man  arose,  modestly,  but  with  an 
air  of  calm  determination,  and  delivered  such  a  lecture  as  he 
only,  I  believe,  at  that  time,  could  have  written;  for  he  only 
had  had  his  eyes  so  anointed  that  be  could  see  that  outrages 
perpetrated  upon  Africans  were  wrongs  done  to  our  common 
humanity;  he  only,  I  believe,  had  had  his  ears  so  completely 
unstopped  of  '  prejudice  against  color '  that  the  cries  of 
enslaved  black  men  and  black  women  sounded  to  him  as  if 
they  came  from  brothers  and  sisters. 

' '  He  began  with  expressing  deep  regret  and  shame  for  the 
zeal  he  had  lately  manifested  in  the  Colonization  cause.  It 
was,  he  confessed,  a  zeal  without  knowledge.  He  had  been 
deceived  by  the  misrepresentations  so  diligently  given  through 
out  the  free  States  by  Southern  agents,  of  the  design  and 
tendency  of  the  Colonization  scheme.  During  his  few  months' 
residence  in  Maryland  he  had  been  completely  undeceived. 
He  had  there  found  out  that  the  design  of  those  who  origi 
nated,  and  the  especial  intentions  of  those  in  the  Southern 
States  who  engaged  in  the  plan,  were  to  remove  from  the 
country,  as  a  disturbing  element  in  slave-holding  communi 
ties,  all  the  free  colored  people,  so  that  the  bondmen  might 
the  more  easily  be  held  in  subjection.  He  exhibited,  in 


142  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

graphic  sketches  and  glowing  colors,  the  suffering  ol  the 
enslaved,  and  denounced  the  plan  of  Colonization  as  devised 
and  adapted  to  perpetuate  the  system  and  intensify  the 
wrongs  of  American  slavery,  and  therefoi  j  utterly  undeserv 
ing  of  the  patronage  of  lovers  of  liberty  and  friends  of 
humanity. 

u  Never  before  was  I  so  affected  by  the  speech  of  man. 
When  he  had  ceased  speaking  I  said  to  those  around  me: 
*  That  is  a  providential  man;  he  is  a  prophet;  he  will  shake 
our  nation  to  its  centre,  but  he  will  shake  slavery  out  of  it. 
We  ought  to  know  him,  we  ought  to  help  him.  Come,  let 
us  go  and  give  him  our  hands.'  Mr.  Sewall  and  Mr. 
Alcott  went  up  with  me,  and  we  introduced  each  other.  I 
said  to  him,  *  Mr.  Garrison,  I  am  not  sure  that  I  can  indorse 
all  you  have  said  this  evening.  Much  of  it  requires  careful 
consideration.  But  I  am  prepared  to  embrace  you.  I  am 
sure  you  are  called  to  a  great  work,  and  I  mean  to  help  you.' 
Mr.  Sewall  cordially  assured  him  of  his  readiness  also  to  co 
operate  with  him.  Mr.  Alcott  invited  him  to  his  home.  He 
went,  and  we  sat  with  him  until  twelve  that  night,  listening 
to  his  discourse,  in  which  he  showed  plainly  that  immediate, 
unconditional  emancipation,  without  expatriation,  was  the  right 
of  every  slave,  and  could  not  be  withheld  by  his  master  an  hour 
without  sin.  That  night  my  soul  was  baptized  in  his  spirit, 
and  ever  since  I  have  been  a  disciple  and  fellow-laborer  of 
William  Lloyd  Garrison. 

u  The  next  morning,  immediately  after  breakfast,  I  went 
to  his  boarding-house  and  stayed  until  two  P.M.  I  learned 
that  he  was  poor,  dependent  upon  his  daily  labor  for  his 
daily  bread,  and  intending  to  return  to  the  printing  business. 
But,  before  he  could  devote  himself  to  his  own  support,  he 
felt  that* he  must  deliver  his  message,  must  communi  ;ate  to 
persons  of  prominent  influence  what  he  had  learned  of  the 
sad  condition  of  the  enslaved,  and  of  the  institutions  and 
spirit  of  the  slave-holders;  trusting  that  all  true  and  good 
men  would  discharge  the  obligation  pressing  upon  them 


ANT1SLA  VERY. 


143 


to  espouse  the  cause  of  the  poor,  the  oppressed,  the  down 
trodden.  He  read  to  me  letters  he  had  addressed  to  Dr. 
Channing,  Dr.  Beecher,  Dr.  Edwards,  the  Hon.  Jeremiah 
Mason,  and  Hon.  Daniel  Webster,  holding  up  to  their  view 
the  tremendous  iniquity  of  the  land,  and  begging  them,  ere 
it  should  be  too  late,  to  interpose  their  great  power  in  the 
Church  and  State  to  save  our  country  from  the  terrible 
calamities  which  the  sin  of  slavery  was  bringing  upon  us. 
Those  letters  were  eloquent,  solemn,  impressive.  I  wonder 
they  did  not  produce  a  greater  effect.  It  was  because  none 
to  whom  he  appealed,  in  public  or  private,  would  espouse  the 
cause,  that  Mr.  Garrison  found  himself  left  and  impelled  to 
become  the  leader  of  the  great  antislavery  reform. 

"  The  hearing  of  Mr.  Garrison's  lectures  was  a  great 
epoch  in  my  own  life.  The  impression  which  they  made 
upon  my  soul  has  never  been  effaced;  indeed,  they  moulded 
it  anew.  They  gave  a  new  direction  to  my  thoughts,  a  new 
purpose  to  my  ministry. 

1 '  I  was  engaged  to  preach  on  the  following  Sunday  for 
Brother  Young,  in  Summer  Street  Church.  Of  course  I 
could  not  again  speak  to  a  congregation  as  a  Christian  min 
ister,  and  be  silent  respecting  the  great  iniquity  of  our  nation. 
The  only  sermon  I  had  brought  from  my  home  in  Connecti 
cut  that  could  be  made  to  bear  or  the  subject  was  one  on 
Prejudice,  a  sermon  about  to  be  published  as  one  of  the 
Tracts  of  the  American  Unitarian  Association.  So  I  touched 
it  up  as  well  as  I  could,  interlining  here  and  there  words  and 
sentences  which  pointed  hi  the  new  direction  to  which  my 
thoughts  and  feelings  so  strongly  tended,  and  writing  at  its 
close  what  used  to  be  called  an  improvement.  Thus:  'The 
subject  of  my  discourse  bears  most  pertinently  upon  a  mat 
ter  of  the  greatest  national  as  well  as  personal  importance. 
There  are  more  than  two  millions  of  our  fellow-beings,  chil 
dren  of  the  Heavenly  Father,  who  are  held  in  our  country  in 
the  most  abject  slavery,  regarded  and  treated  like  domes 
ticated  animals,  their  rights  as  men  trampled  under  foot, 


144  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

their  conjugal,  parental,  fraternal  relations  and  affections 
utterly  set  at  naught.  It  is  our  prejudice  against  the  color  of 
these  poor  people  that  makes  us  consent  to  the  tremendous 
wrongs  they  are  suffering.  If  they  were  white,  ay,  if  only 
two  thousand  or  two  hundred  white  men,  women,  and  children 
in  the  Southern  States  were  treated  as  these  millions  of  col 
ored  ones  are,  we  of  the  North  should  make  such  a  stir 
of  indignation,  we  should  so  agitate  the  country  with  our 
appeals  and  remonstrances,  that  the  oppressors  would  be 
compelled  to  set  their  bondmen  free.  But  will  our  prejudice 
be  accepted  by  the  Almighty,  the  impartial  Judge  of  all,  as  a 
valid  excuse  for  our  indifference  to  the  wrongs  and  outrages 
inflicted  upon  these  millions  of  our  countrymen  ?  Oh,  no !  oh, 
no!  He  will  say,  "Inasmuch  as  ye  did  not  what  ye  could 
for  the  relief  of  these,  the  least  of  the  brethren,  ye  did  it  not 
to  me."  Tell  me  not  that  we  are  forbidden  by  the  Constitu 
tion  of  our  country  to  interfere  in  behalf  of  the  enslaved.  No 
compact  our  fathers  may  have  made  for  us,  no  agreement  we 
could  ourselves  make,  would  annul  our  obligations  to  suffer 
ing  fellow-men.  Yes,  yes,'  I  said,  with  an  emphasis  that 
seemed  to  startle  everybody  in  the  house,  '  if  need  be,  the 
very  foundations  of  our  Republic  must  be  broken  up;  and  if 
this  stone  of  stumbling,  this  rock  of  offence,  cannot  be 
removed  from  under  it,  the  proud  superstructure  must  fall. 
It  cannot  stand,  it  ought  not  to  stand,  it  will  not  stand,  on 
the  necks  of  millions  of  men.  For  God  is  just,  and  his 
justice  will  not  sleep  for  ever. '  I  then  offered  such  a  prayer 
as  my  kindled  spirit  moved  me  to,  and  gave  out  the  hymn 
commencing, 

'  Awake,  my  soul,  stretch  every  nerve, 
And  press  with  vigor  on.' 

"  When  I  rose  to  pronounce  the  benediction,  I  said:  '  Every 
one  present  must  be  conscious  that  the  closing  remarks  of  my 
sermon  ha^e  caused  an  unusual  emotion  throughout  the 
church.  I  am  glad.  Would  to  God  that  a  deeper  emotion 


ANT1  SLAVERY. 


145 


could  be  sent  throughout  our  land,  until  all  the  people 
thereof  shall  be  roused  from  their  wicked  insensibility  to  the 
most  tremendous  sin  of  which  any  nation  was  ever  guilty, 
and  be  impelled  to  do  that  righteousness  which  alone  can 
avert  the  just  displeasure  of  God.  I  have  been  prompted  to 
speak  thus  by  the  words  I  have  heard  during  the  past  week 
from  a  young  man  hitherto  unknown,  but  who  is,  I  believe, 
called  of  God  to  do  a  greater  work  for  the  good  of  our 
country  than  has  been  done  by  any  one  since  the  Revolution. 
I  mean  William  Lloyd  Garrison.  He  is  going  to  repeat  his 
lectures  the  coming  week.  I  advise,  I  exhort,  I  entreat  — 
would  that  I  could  compel!  — you  to  go  and  hear  him.' 

"The  excited  audience  gathered  in  clusters,  evidently 
talking  about  what  had  happened.  I  found  the  porch  full 
of  persons  conversing  in  very  earnest  tones.  Presently  a 
lady  of  fine  person,  her  countenance  suffused  with  emotion, 
tears  coursing  down  her  cheeks,  pressed  through  the  crowd, 
seized  my  hand,  and  said  audibly,  with  deep  feeling:  'Mr. 
May,  I  thank  you.  What  a  shame  it  is  that  I,  who  have 
been  a  constant  attendant  from  my  childhood  in  this  or  some 
other  Christian  church,  am  obliged  to  confess  that  to-day,  for 
the  first  time,  I  have  heard  from  the  pulpit  a  plea  for  the 
oppressed,  the  enslaved  millions  in  our  land ! '  All  within 
hearing  of  her  voice  were  evidently  moved  in  sympathy  with 
her,  or  were  awed  by  her  emotion.  For  myself  I  could  only 
acknowledge  in  a  word  my  gratitude  for  her  generous  tes 
timony. 

"  The  next  day  I  perceived,  on  his  return  from  his  place 
of  business  in  State  Street,  that  my  revered  father  was 
much  disturbed  by  the  reports  he  had  heard  of  my  preaching* 
Some  of  the  '  gentlemen  of  property  and  standing '  who  had 
been  my  auditors  said  it  was  fanatical,  others  that  it  was 
incendiary,  others  that  it  was  treasonable;  and  begged  him 
to  '  arrest  me  in  my  mad  career.'  The  only  one,  as  he  soon 
afterwards  informed  me,  who  had  spoken  in  any  other  than 
terms  of  censure,  was  the  great  and  good  Dr.  Bowditch,  who 
7  9 


146  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  j. 

said,  '  Depend  upon  it,  the  young  man  is  more  than  half 
right.'  My  father  tried  to  dissuade  me  from  engaging  in  the 
attempt  to  overthrow  the  system  of  slavery  which  Mr.  Garri 
son  proposed.  He  had  come,  with  most  others,  to  regard 
it  as  an  unavoidable  evil,  one  that  the  fathers  of  our  Repub 
lic  had  not  ventured  to  suppress,  but  had  rather  given  to  its 
protection  something  like  a  guaranty.  He  thought,  with 
most  others  at  that  day,  that  slavery  must  be  left  to  be 
gradually  removed  by  the  progress  of  civilization,  the  growth 
of  higher  ideas  of  human  nature,  and  the  manifest  superiority 
and  better  economy  of  free  labor.  He  admonished  me  that, 
in  assailing  the  institution  of  American  slavery,  I  should 
only  be  'kicking  against  the  pricks,'  that  I  should  lose  my 
standing  in  the  ministry  and  my  usefulness  in  the  church.  I 
need  not  add  that  he  failed  to  convince  me  that  '  the  foolish 
ness  of  preaching  '  would  not  yet  be  '  mighty  to  the  pulling 
down  of  the  stronghold  of  Satan.'  In  less  than  ten  years  he 
was  reconciled  to  my  course. 

"  A  few  days  afterwards  I  gave  my  sermon  on  Prejudice  to 
my  most  excellent  friend,  Rev.  Henry  Ware,  Jr.,  for  the 
American  Unitarian  Association.  He  accepted  the  discourse 
as  originally  written,  but  insisted  that  the  interlineations  and 
the  additions  respecting  slavery  should  be  omitted.  He 
would  not  have  done  this,  nor  should  I  have  consented  to  it,  a 
few  years  later.  But  we  were  all  in  bondage  then.  Uncon 
sciously  to  ourselves,  the  hand  of  the  slave-holding  power  lay 
heavily  upon  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  people  hi  our  North 
ern  as  well  as  Southern  States. 

' '  What  a  pity  that  my  words  in  that  sermon  respecting 
slavery  were  not  published  in  the  tract!  They  might  have 
helped  a  little  to  commit  our  Unitarian  denomination  much 
earlier  to  the  cause  of  impartial  liberty  in  earnest  protest 
against  the  great  oppression,  the  unparalleled  iniquity  of  our 
land.  Of  whom  should  opposition  to  slavery  of  every  kind 
have  been  expected  so  soon  as  from  Unitarian  Christians?  " 
—  Recollections ,  pp.  17-24. 


ANT1SLAVERY.  147 

Though  he  was  now  fully  committed  to  all  the  prin 
ciples  of  the  movement  against  slavery,  and  fully  in 
sympathy  with  Mr.  Garrison,  he  still  questioned  with 
himself  whether  the  latter  would  not  better  help  his 
cause  by  a  more  restrained  and  moderate  advocacy  of 
it.  And  he  frankly  told  him  his  doubts. 

"  Mr.  Garrison  will  perhaps  remember  that,  a  few  months 
after  he  commenced  the  *  Liberator,'  when  almost  every- 
-  body  was  finding  fault  with  him  or  wishing  that  he  would 
be  more  temperate,  I  was  one  of  the  friends  that  came  to  re 
monstrate  and  entreat.  He  and  his  faithful  partner,  Isaac 
Kiiapp,  were  at  work  in  the  little  upper  chamber,  No.  6 
Merchants'  Hall,  where  they  lived,  as  well  as  they  could,  with 
their  printing-press  and  types,  all  within  an  enclosure  six 
teen  or  eighteen  feet  square.  I  requested  him  to  walk  out 
with  me  that  we  might  confer  on  an  important  matter.  He 
at  once  laid  aside  his  pen,  and  we  descended  to  the  street.  I 
informed  him  how  much  troubled  I  had  become  for  fear  he 
was  damaging  the  cause  he  had  so  much  at  heart  by  the 
undue  severity  of  his  style.  He  listened  to  me  patiently.  I 
told  him  what  many  of  the  wise  and  prudent,  who  professed 
an  interest  in  his  object,  said  about  his  manner  of  pursuing 
it.  He  replied  somewhat  in  the  way  he  has  so  often  done 
since :  '  Do  the  slaves  think  my  language  too  severe  or  misap 
plied  ?  Do  that  husband  and  wife,  that  mother  and  daughter, 
who  have  just  been  separated  for  life,  by  sale  on  the  auction- 
block,  think  my  denunciation  of  the  man  who  inflicts  that 
wrong  too  severe?'  'But,'  said  I,  'some  of  the  epithets 
you  use,  though  not  perhaps  too  severe,  are  not  precisely 
applicable  to  the  sin  you  denounce,  and  so  may  seem  abusive.' 
'  Ah! '  he  rejoined,  '  until  the  term  "  slave-holder  "  sends  as 
deep  a  feeling  of  horror  to  the  hearts  of  those  who  hear  it 
applied  to  any  one  as  the  terms  "  robber,"  "  pirate,"  "mur 
derer  "  do,  we  must  use  and  multiply  epithets  when  con- 


148 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


demnmg  the  sin  of  him  who  is  guilty  of  the  "  sum  of  all  vil- 
lanies."  'Oh,'  cried  I,  'my  friend,  do  try  to  moderate 
your  indignation,  and  kteep  more  cool!  why,  you  are  all  on 
fire ! '  He  stopped,  laid  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder  with  a  kind 
but  emphatic  pressure  that  I  have  felt  ever  since,  and  said 
slowly,  with  deep  emotion,  '  Brother  May,  I  have  need  to  be 
all  on  fire,  for  I  have  mountains  of  ice  about  me  to  melt.' 
From  that  hour  to  this  I  have  never  said  a  word  to  Mr.  Gar 
rison  in  complaint  of  his  style.  I  am  more  than  half  satisfied 
now  that  he  was  right  then,  and  we  who  objected  were  mis 
taken." —  Recollections,  p.  36. 

In  Windham  County,  Conn.,  Mr.  May  stood  quite 
alone,  being  the  only  minister  of  his  denomination 
in  the  whole  State,  and  finding  little  sympathy  with 
his  antislavery  convictions  beyond  his  own  parish, 
where  the  people  welcomed  Mr.  Garrison  to  their  pul 
pit,  and,  with  a  few  exceptions,  heartily  co-operated 
with  their  pastor.  He  suddenly  found  himself  called  to 
confront  the  entire  political,  social,  and  religious  senti 
ment  of  his  county,  besides  entering  upon  a  contest 
with  the  officers  of  the  law. 

In  1833,  Miss  Prudence  Crandall,  a  well-educated 
lady,  who  had  an  excellent  boarding  and  day  school  for 
girls  in  Canterbury,  in  a  house  which  she  owned,  after 
some  hesitation  received  a  bright  young  colored  woman 
of  fine  character  as  a  pupil.  When  the  parents  of  some 
of  the  white  scholars  threatened  to  remove  their  chil 
dren  if  the  "nigger  girl"  was  permitted  to  remain, 
and  Miss  Crandall  saw  that,  without  doing  what  she 
believed  to  be  mean  and  wrong,  she  could  no  longer 
expect  to  have  a  full  school  from  that  neighborhood, 


ANT  I  SLA  VER  Y.  149 

Bhe  gave  notice  in  Canterbury,  and  advertised  in  the 
"  Liberator,"  that  her  school  would  be  opened  "  for 
young  ladies  and  little  misses  of  color."  This  excited 
the  fiercest  wrath  of  the  community. 

Hearing  of  her  noble  stand,  Mr.  May  wrote  Miss 
Crandall  a  letter  of  encouragement;  and,  although 
warned  that  he  should  be  in  personal  danger  if  he  ap 
peared  in  Canterbury  as  her  friend,  he  soon  went  there 
.at  her  request.  He  found  that  she  had  been  grossly 
insulted,  and  threatened,  and  that  a  town-meeting  was 
to  be  held  to  adopt  such  measures  as  "  would  effectually 
avert  the  nuisance,  or  speedily  abate  it." 

To  this  meeting  a  multitude  came,  many  from  the 
neighboring  towns.  Strong  resolutions  were  offered 
and  abusive  speeches  were  made  by  men  of  prominence; 
and  when  Miss  Crandall,  by  a  note  to  the  chairman, 
asked  that  Messrs.  May  and  Arnold  Buffum  might  be 
heard  in  her  defence,  fists  were  doubled  in  their  faces, 
and  they  were  not  permitted  to  speak. 

The  school  opened  with  fifteen  or  twenty  colored 
girls  from  different  parts  of  the  country.  But  no  store 
keeper  or  dealer  in  provisions  in  the  town  would  furnish 
needful  supplies.  Miss  Crandall  and  her  pupils  were 
insulted  in  the  street,  "  the  doors  and  door-steps  of  her 
house  were  besmeared,  and  her  well  was  filled  with 
filth."  The  old  vagrant  law  was  revived,  and  its  en 
forcement  attempted  "  upon  Eliza  Ann  Hammond,  of 
Providence,  a  fine  girl  of  seventeen  years,"  notwithstand 
ing  a  bond  in  the  sum  of  $10,000  had  bee»:giyfin  to  the 
town  treasurer  of  Canterbury  by  jseveral  gentlemen  of 


TT  T? 


150  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Brooklyn,  to  save  the  town  from  all  charges  on  account 
of  any  of  Miss  Crandall's  pupils.  This  law  required 
that  whipping  on  the  naked  body,  not  exceeding  ten 
stripes,  should  be  inflicted  on  any  person  refusing  to 
leave  the  town  after  ten  days'  warning.  Miss  Ham 
mond  dared  to  stay,  but  her  persecutors  did  not  ven 
ture  to  proceed  to  the  extremity  of  the  whipping. 

But  on  the  24th  of  May,  1833,  the  legislature  of  Con 
necticut  enacted  a  law  known  as  "  The  Black  Law." 
It  provided,  under  heavy  penalties,  that  no  school 
should  be  established  in  any  town  of  the  State,  for  the 
education  of  colored  persons  of  other  towns,  <;  without 
the  consent  in  writing,  first  obtained,  of  a  majority  of  the 
civil  authority,  and  the  selectmen  of  the  town."  Miss 
Crandall  was  arrested  and  lodged  in  the  county  jail  at 
Brooklyn.  Messrs.  May  and  George  W.  Benson  gave 
the  required  bonds  the  next  day,  and  she  returned  to 
her  school. 

Reports  of  a  calumnious  character  against  Miss  Cran 
dall,  her  pupils,  and  her  friends,  were  circulated  and 
printed ;  and  all  corrections,  with  all  defences  of  the 
school,  were  refused  insertion  in  the  county  papers. 
To  Mr.  May's  surprise  and  delight,  he  received  a  letter 
from  Arthur  Tappan,  of  New  York,  pledging  money  to 
secure  the  best  legal  counsel  for  Miss  Crandall.  Mr. 
Tappan  soon  visited  Mr.  May,  and  suggested  the  start 
ing  of  a  newspaper  as  a  needed  auxiliary.  In  "  The 
Unionist,"  which  was  continued  about  two  years,  Mr. 
May  was  assisted  by  the  since  distinguished  brothers, 
Charles  C.  and  William  H.  Burleigh. 


ANTISLAVERY. 

At  Miss  CrandalPs  first  trial  the  jury  did  not  agree. 
A  new  indictment  was  hastily  drawn,  and  a  verdict  was 
given  against  her.  The  case  was  then  carried  up  to  the 
highest  tribunal  of  the  State ;  but  upon  the  vital  ques 
tion  the  Court  gave  no  decision  at  all,  merely  quashing 
the  indictment  on  account  of  its  defects ! 

Miss  Crandall's  house  was  set  on  fire,  but  by  timely 
exertion  saved  from  destruction.  At  about  midnight 
of  the  9th  of  September,  the  house  was  assaulted  by  a 
band  of  persons  with  heavy  clubs  and  iron  bars,  who 
broke  in  and  destroyed  windows,  rendering  a  portion  of 
the  house  quite  untenantable,  and  alarming  the  pupils 
exceedingly.  They  now  became  afraid  to  remain  an 
other  night.  In  his  "Recollections  of  the  Antislavery 
Conflict,"  Mr.  May  says :  — 

"  After  due  consideration,  therefore,  it  was  determined 
that  the  school  should  be  abandoned.  The  pupils  were  called 
together,  and  I  was  requested  to  announce  to  them  our  deci 
sion.  Never  before  had  I  felt  so  deeply  sensible  of  the  cru 
elty  of  the  persecution  which  had  been  carried  on  for  eighteen 
months,  in  that  New  England  village,  against  a  family  of 
defenceless  females.  Twenty  harmless,  well-behaved. girls, 
whose  only  offence  against  the  peace  of  the  community  was 
that  they  had  come  together  there  to  obtain  useful  knowl 
edge  and  moral  culture,  were  to  be  told  that  they  must  go 
away,  because  the  house  in  which  they  dwelt  would  not  be 
protected  by  the  guardians  of  the  town."  "  The  words  al 
most  blistered  my  lips.  My  bosom  glowed  with  indignation. 
I  felt  ashamed  of  Canterbury,  ashamed  of  Connecticut, 
ashamed  of  my  country,  ashamed  of  my  color.  Thus  ended 
the  generous,  disinterested,  philanthropic,  Christian  enter 
prise  of  Prudence  Crandall." 


152  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

While  Mr.  May  had  so  much  local  odium  and  perse 
cution  to  bear,  there  were  true-hearted  ones,  both  near 
at  hand  and  far  away,  who  gave  him  cordial  assurance 
of  their  admiring  sympathy  in  his  noble  course.  In 
July,  1833,  Mrs.  L.  Maria  Child  published  "An  Appeal 
in  f-ivor  of  that  Class  of  Americans  called  Africans,"  a 
work  never  superseded,  and  which  may  yet  be  con 
sulted  with  profit.  She  dedicated  it  in  these  terms: 
"To  the  Rev.  S.  J.  May,  of  Brooklyn,  Conn.,  this  vol 
ume  is  most  respectfully  inscribed  as  a  mark  of  gratitude 
for  his  earnest  and  disinterested  efforts  in  an  unpopular 
but  most  righteous  cause."  When  he  received  his 
copy  of  this  work  and  read  the  dedication,  which  was  a 
complete  surprise  to  him,  Mr.  May  was  deeply  moved, 
and  said  to  his  cousin  Samuel,  "  Now,  indeed,  I  must  go 
forward.  I  can  never  draw  back." 

In  December,  1833,  Mr.  May  attended  the  convention 
in  Philadelphia  which  had  been  called  to  form  a 
National  Antislavery  Society.  A  letter  from  John  G. 
Whittier  gives  an  interesting  account  of  the  important 
part  which  was  assigned  to  them  at  that  memorable 
gathering,  as  well  as  other  illustrations  of  Mr.  May's 
fidelity  in  those  days  that  tried  men's  souls. 

"AMESBUKY,  3d,  llth  mo.,  1871. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  know  that  the  biography  of  my  old  and 
dear  friend,  Samuel  J.  May,  is  in  such  good  hands.  I  have 
known  him  well  for  nearly  forty  years.  I  first  met  him 
at  the  convention  in  Philadelphia  which  formed  the  American 
A  ntislavery  Society  in  1833;  and,  like  everybody  else,  loved 
him  at  first  sight.  I  remember  he  was  on  the  sub-committee 


A  NT1SLA  VER  Y. 

with  Garrison  and  myself,  to  whom  was  assigned  the  task  of 
drawing  up  the  Declaration  of  Sentiments,  a  draft  of  which 
Garrison  read  to  us  by  candle-light  in  the  early  December 
morning.  I  was  with  him  in  the  season  of  the  Boston  mobs, 
and  went  with  him  to  visit  Garrison  in  the  Leverett  Street 
jail.  I  was  associated  with  him  and  Dr.  Follen  and  Professor 
Ware  in  preparing  the  Address  of  the  New  England  Antislav- 
ery  Convention.  His  labors  in  the  cause  were  abundant,  and 
prosecuted  under  circumstances  which  would  have  appalled 
a  less  brave  and  hopeful  spirit.  In  my  native  town,  Haver- 
dll,  he  was  assailed  by  a  ferocious  mob;  and  narrowly 
escaped  personal  indignity  and  injury  by  his  cool  firmness 
and  self-possession,  passing  through  the  enraged  crowd  after 
the  lecture,  with  no  other  escort  than  my  sister  and  her 
friend,  daughter  of  the  late  Judge  Minot,  of  Haverhill,  now 
Mrs.  Pitman,  of  Somerville.  Through  all  the  trials  and 
vicissitudes  of  the  antislavery  struggle  he  bore  himself  with 
a  serene  and  cheerful  courage,  and  a  hope  which  never 
failed  in  the  darkest  hours. 

"  He  was  a  favorite  with  all  classes  and  parties  in  the 
antislavery  reform.  Orthodoxy  forgot  his  liberalism,  New 
Organization  forgave  his  adherence  to  the  Old.  Nobody 
doubted  his  sincerity.  I  had  reason  to  know  that  his  bitterest 
political  enemies  loved  and  honored  him  in  their  hearts,  even 
while  denouncing  him  with  their  lips.  His  last  visit  to  me 
was  but  little  more  than  a  year  before  his  death.  We  spent 
a  happy  day  together,  talking  over  the  old  times,  and  calling 
up  the  dear  old  friends  who  acted  with  us." 

Prejudice  against  the  Abolitionists  at  this  time  was 
exceedingly  strong  and  bitter ;  and,  to  some  extent,  it 
was  shared  by  the  most  intelligent  and  worthy  men. 
The  story  of  Mr.  May's  noble  reproof  of  Dr.  Channing, 
and  the  latter's  equally  noble  confession  that  it  was 
deserved,  was  first  published  in  the  "  Memoir  of  Chan- 
7* 


154  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

ning;"  but  it  cannot  be  spared  from  the  Life  of  Mr, 
May. 

"  Late  in  the  year  1834,  being  on  a  visit  in  Boston,  I  spent 
several  hours  with  Dr.  Channing  in  earnest  conversation 
upon  Abolitionism  and  the  Abolitionists.  My  habitual  rever 
ence  for  him  was  such  that  I  had  always  been  apt  to  defer 
perhaps  too  readily  to  his  opinions,  or  not  to  make  a  very 
stout  defence  of  my  own  when  they  differed  from  his.  But 
at  the  time  to  which  I  refer  1  had  become  so  thoroughly  con 
vinced  of  the  truth  of  the  essential  doctrines  of  the  American 
Antislavery  Society,  and  so  earnestly  engaged  in  the  dissem 
ination  of  them,  that  our  conversation  assumed,  more  than  it 
had  ever  done,  the  character  of  a  debate.  He  acknowledged 
the  inestimable  importance  of  the  object  we  had  in  view. 
The  evils  of  slavery,  he  assented,  could  not  be  overstated. 
He  allowed  that  removal  to  Africa  ought  not  to  be  made  a 
condition  of  the  liberation  of  the  enslaved.  But  he  hesitated 
still  to  accept  the  doctrine  of  immediate  emancipation.  His 
principal  objections,  however,  were  alleged  against  the  sever 
ity  of  our  denunciations,  the  harshness  of  our  epithets,  the 
vehemence,  heat,  and  excitement  caused  by  the  harangues  at 
our  meetings,  and  still  more  by  Mr.  Garrison's  '  Liberator.' 
The  Doctor  dwelt  upon  these  objections,  which,  if  they  were 
as  well  founded  as  he  assumed  them  to  be,  lay  against  what 
was  only  incidental,  not  an  essential  part  of  our  movement. 
He  dwelt  upon  them  until  I  became  impatient;  and,  forget- 
1ing  for  the  moment  my  wonted  deference,  J  broke  out  with 
not  a  little  warmth  of  expression  and  manner. 

"  '  Dr.  Channing,'  I  said,  '  I  am  tired  of  these  complaints. 
The  cause  of  suffering  humanity,  the  cause  of  our  oppressed, 
crushed,  colored  countrymen,  has  called  as  loudly  upon  others 
as  upon  us  Abolitionists.  It  was  just  as  incumbent  upon 
others  as  upon  us  to  espouse  it.  We  are  not  to  blame  that 
wiser  and  better  men  did  not  espouse  it  long  ago.  The  cry 
of  millions,  suffering  the  most  cruel  bondage  in  our  land, 


AXTISLA7ERY. 


155 


had  been  heard  for  half  a  century,  and  disregarded.  "  The 
wise  and  prudent"  saw  the  terrible  wrong,  but  thought  it 
not  wise  and  prudent  to  lift  a  finger  for  its  correction.  The 
priests  and  Levites  beheld  their  robbed  and  wounded  country 
men,  and  passed  by  on  the  other  side.  The  children  of 
Abraham  held  their  peace,  and  at  last  "  the  very  stones  have 
c.ied  out  "  in  abhorrence  of  this  tremendous  iniquity.  You 
must  not  wonder  if  many  of  those  who  have  been  left  to 
take  up  this  great  cause  do  not  plead  it  in  all  that  seemliness 
cf  phrase  which  the  scholars  and  practised  rhetoricians  of 
our  country  might  use.  You  must  not  expect  them  to 
speak  and  act  with  all  the  calmness  and  discretion  that 
clergymen  and  statesmen  might  exhibit.  But  the  scholars, 
the  statesmen,  the  clergy  did  nothing,  did  not  seem  about  to 
do  any  thing;  and  for  my  part  I  thank  God  that  at  last  any 
persons,  be  they  who  they  may,  have  earnestly  engaged  in 
this  cause;  for  no  movement  can  be  in  vain.  We  Abolitionists 
are  what  we  are,  babes,  sucklings,  obscure  men,  silly  women, 
publicans,  sinners;  and  we  must  manage  this  matter  just  as 
might  be  expected  of  such  persons  as  we  are.  It  is  unbecom 
ing  in  abler  men  who  stand  by  and  do  nothing  to  complain 
of  us  because  we  do  no  better. 

"•  '  Dr.  Channing,'  I  continued  with  increased  earnestness, 
4  it  is  not  our  fault  that  those  who  might  have  conducted  this 
great  reform  more  prudently  have  left  it  to  us  to  manage  as 
we  may.  It  is  not  our  fault  that  those  who  might  have 
pleaded  for  the  enslaved  so  much  more  wisely  and  eloquently, 
both  with  the  pen  and  the  living  voice,  have  been  silent. 
We  are  not  to  blame,  sir,  that  you,  who,  more  perhaps  than 
anv  other  man,  might  have  so  raised  the  voice  of  remon 
strance  that  it  should  have  been  heard  throughout  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  land,  have  not  so  spoken.  And  now  that 
inferior  men  have  been  impelled  to  speak  and  act  against 
what  you  acknowledge  to  be  an  awful  system  of  iniquity,  it 
is  not  becoming  in  you  to  complain  of  us  because  we  do  it  in 
an  inferior  style.  Why,  sir,  have  you  not  taken  this  matter 


156  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

in  hand  yourself?  Why  have  you  not  spoken  to  the  nation 
long  ago,  as  you,  better  than  any  other  one,  ^ould  have 
spoken  ?  ' 

"  At  this  point  I  bethought  me  to  whom  T  was  administer 
ing  this  rebuke,  the  man  who  stood  among  the  highest  of  the 
great  and  good  in  our  land,  the  man  whose  reputation  for 
wisdom  and  sanctity  had  become  world- wide,  the  man,  too, 
who  had  ever  treated  me  with  the  kindness  of  a  father,  and 
whom  from  my  childhood  I  had  been  accustomed  to  revere 
more  than  any  one  living.  I  was  almost  overwhelmed  with 
a  sense  of  my  temerity.  His  countenance  showed  that  he 
was  much  moved.  I  could  not  suppose  he  would  receive  all 
I  had  said  very  graciously.  I  awaited  his  reply  in  painful 
expectation.  The  minutes  seemed  very  long  that  elapsed 
before  the  silence  was  broken.  Then,  in  a  very  subdued 
manner  and  in  the  kindliest  tones  of  his  voice,  he  said: 
4  Brother  May,  I  acknowledge  the  justice  of  your  reproof.  I 
have  been  silent  too  long.'  Never  shall  I  forget  his  words, 
look,  whole  appearance.  I  then  and  there  saw  the  beauty, 
the  magnanimity,  the  humility,  of  a  truly  great  Chris 
tian  soul.  He  was  exalted  in  my  esteem  more  even  than 
before. 

"  The  next  spring,"  Mr.  May  adds,  "  when  I  removed  to 
Boston  and  became  the  General  Agent  of  the  Antislavery 
Society,  Dr.  Channing  was  the  first  of  the  ministers  there  to 
call  upon  me  and  express  sympathy  with  me  in  the  great 
work  to  which  I  had  come  to  devote  myself.  And  during 
the  whole  fourteen  months  that  I  continued  in  that  office  he 
treated  me  with  uniform  kindness,  and  often  made  anxious 
inquiries  about  the  phases  of  our  attempted  reform  of  the 
nation."  —  Recollections,  p.  172. 

It  will  be  very  difficult  for  most  readers  at  this  day 
to  comprehend  the  extent  and  force  of  the  hostility  to 
the  Abolitionists  in  1835.  Something  of  it  may  be 


ANTISLA  VER  Y.  157 

imagined  from  the  fact  that,  in  the  city  of  Boston, 
deemed  the  home  of  liberal  thought,  the  "  cradle  of 
liberty,"  and  the  seat  of  education  and  every  benevo 
lent  object,  not  a  single  church  could  be  obtained  for  a 
meeting  or  lecture  on  slavery ;  not  a  minister,  except 
ing  Dr.  Channing  and  the  pastor  of  Pine  Street  Church 
(Rev.  A.  A.  Phelps?),  would  even  read  a  notice  of  such 
a  meeting;  and  no  public  hall  of  any  size  and  commo- 
^diousness  could  be  hired  for  such  use.  Faneuil  Hall 
even,  which  surely  should  have  re-echoed  all  appeals 
for  liberty  and  justice,  was  refused,  though  asked  for  in  a 
respectful  petition  signed  by  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  gentlemen  of  irreproachable  character.  But  the 
same  hall  was  readily  granted  for  a  meeting  of  citizens 
to  denounce  the  Abolitionists,  and  assure  the  slavehold 
ers  that  Boston  would  give  them  no  trouble.  As  the 
combat  thickened,  Mr.  May  felt  bound  to  devote  more 
time  and  strength  to  the  cause  of  the  slave. 

"  The  demand  for  antislavery  lectures  came  from  all  parts 
of  New  England,  and  from  many  parts  of  the  Middle  and 
Western  States.  A  great  work  was  to  he  done.  The  fields 
were  whitening  to  the  harvest,  but  the  laborers  were  few.  I 
therefore  accepted  the  renewed  invitation  of  the  Massachusetts 
Antislavery  Society  to  become  its  General  Agent  and  Corre 
sponding  Secretary,  and  removed  to  Boston  early  in  the 
spring  of  1835.  Many  of  my  nearest  relatives  and  dearest 
friends  received  me  kindly,  indeed,  but  with  sadness.  They 
feared  I  should  lose  my  standing  in  the  ministry,  and  become 
an  outcast  from  the  churches.  For  a  while  it  seemed  as  if 
their  apprehensions  were  not  groundless.  None  of  the  Bos 
ton  ministers,  excepting  Dr.  Channing,  welcomed  me.  Dr. 


158  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Follen,  Dr.  Ware,  Jr.,  and  Dr.  Palfrey  were  then  resident  in 
Cambridge  :  Mr.  Pierpont  was  in  Europe.  James  Freeman 
Clarke  had  not  left  Louisville,  and  Theodore  Parker  was  a 
student  in  the  Divinity  School.  I  was,  indeed,  soon  made  to 
feel  that  I  was  not  in  good  repute.  Dr.  Ware,  Senior,  who 
had  charge  of  the  Hollis  Street  pulpit  in  the  absence  of  the 
pastor,  invited  me  to  supply  it,  if  I  found  I  could  do  so  con 
sistently  with  my  new  duties.  I  engaged  for  two  Sundays. 
But.  at  the  close  of  the  first,  one  of  the  chief  officers  of 
the  church  waited  upon  me,  by  direction  of  the  principal 
members,  and  requested  me  not  to  enter  their  pulpit  again, 
assuring  me,  if  I  should  do  so,  that  a  dozen  or  more  of  the 
prominent  men  with  their  families  would  leave  the  house. 
Of  course  I  yielded  ;  and  I  was  not  invited  into  any  other 
pulpit  in  the  city,  excepting  Dr.  Channing's,  during  the  fif 
teen  months  that  I  resided  there." — Recollections. 

We  cannot  give  a  better  description  of  Mr.  May's 
manner  as  an  antislavery  lecturer,  or  a  finer  example  of 
the  impression  that  he  often  made,  than  will  be  found 
in  this  letter  from  one  who  caught  his  spirit,  and  has 
emulated  his  fidelity:  — 

LOUISVILLE,  KY.,  May  16,  1872. 

DEAR  BROTHER  MUMFORD,  —  A  deeply  interesting  remi 
niscence  of  Mr.  May  has  often  touched  and  thrilled  me.  In 
its  visitings,  it  has  seemed  more  like  the  presence  of  an  angel 
form  hovering  near,  than  of  any  well-defined,  earthly  being; 
for  I  cannot  give  to  the  scene  which  it  brings  before  me  exact 
date  or  certain  local  habitation,  and  yet  the  scene  itself  is 
distinctly  visible,  and  its  impression  as  fresh  and  deep  as  if 
made  yjsterday." 

It  was  in  the  town  hall  of  Worcester,  I  think,  and  when  I 
was  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  of  age,  that  I  saw  and  heard 


A  NT  IS  LA  VERY.  159 

our  revered  and  beloved  friend  for  the  first  time,  and  received 
the  ineffaceable  impression.  He  was  speaking  upon  the  sub 
ject  of  slavery,  and  I  was  not  then  prepared  to  listen  to  him 
with  entirely  unprejudiced  mind.  When  a  child,  I  had  gone 
with  my  parents  to  New  Jersey,  and  had  lived  there  five 
years.  At  that  time  slavery  was  dying  out  in  that  State 
under  gradual  emancipation.  Its  last  remnants  only  were  to 
be  met  with ;  but  I  saw  enough  of  the  relations  which  existed 
between  old  family  servants  and  their  former  masters  to 
teach  me  that  the  service,  repulsive  as  it  was  to  my  inborn, 
ITew  England  love  of  universal  freedom,  was  not  mere  chat- 
telism  unrelieved  by  thoughtful  kindness,  and  that  slave 
holders  personally  had  often  risen  above  the  influences  of  the 
slave  system.  You  will  readily  understand,  therefore,  why 
the  reformers,  whom  our  friend  represented,  should  have 
appeared  to  me  somewhat  unwise  ultraists,  extremists  who 
were  not  altogether  just. 

Mr.  May  spoke  then  as  he  always  spoke.  You  know  he 
never  compromised,  but  always  said  just  what  he  thought 
truth  and  duty  required.  His  analysis  of  slavery  was  keen, 
and  his  denunciation  of  it  scathing,  withering.  Some  of  his 
statements  seemed  too  unqualified  and  severe,  but  all  present 
listened  intently.  We  could  not  olo  otherwise,  so  earnest  and 
rapt  was  he. 

After  he  had  spoken  for  a  considerable  time,  a  Southern 
gentleman,  who  chanced  to  be  present,  asked  permission  to 
express  his  dissent  from  the  views  advanced.  "  By  all 
means,"  said  Mr.  May,  with  the  fairness  and  courtesy  al 
ways  characteristic  of  him,  and  urged  the  stranger  to  speak 
at  length  and  with  perfect  freedom.  When  he  had  finished, 
Mr.  May  replied;  and  it  was  his  manner  and  his  looks,  as 
well  as  his  words,  while  making  the  rejoinder,  that  moved 
rny  heart  to  its  depths  and  filled  me  with  admiration,  almost 
with  awe.  So  strong  and  frank  was  he,  yet  so  mild  and 
calm,  so  unfaltering  and  so  loving  in  spirit,  so  complete  his 
self-control,  and  so  evident  his  heart-felt  desire  to  do  justice 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

to  all,  that  I  could  not  but  feel  that  we  were  in  the  presence 
of  one  whose  allegiance  to  truth  was  entire,  and  who  would 
always,  prophet-like,  speak  what  he  thought  God  bade  him 
epeak. 

Years  passed-  before  I  saw  him  again,  but  his  kindly, 
truth-illumined  face  never  vanished  from  my  mind;  and  I 
have  always  been  grateful  for  the  influence  then  exerted  and 
for  the  illustration  which  the  consecrated  man  then  gave  of 
that  highest,  most  Christ-like  attainment  and  grace, — the 
power  of  speaking  the  truth  in  love. 

Truly,  your  brother, 

JOHN  H.  HEYWOOD. 


He  was  mobbed  five  times ;  his  meetings  at  Rut 
land  and  Montpelier,  Vt.,  and  at  Haverhill,  Mass., 
being  "dispersed  with  violence."  Demands  came  from 
several  of  the  Southern  legislatures  "to  suppress  all 
Abolition  societies,  and  make  it  penal  to  print,  publish, 
or  distribute  newspapers  and  tracts  having  a  ten 
dency  to  excite  the  slaves  to  insurrection  and  revolt." 
In  his  Annual  Address  to  the  Legislature  of  Massa 
chusetts,  in  January,  1836,  Governor  Everett  not  only 
severely  censured  the  Abolitionists,  but  intimated  his 
opinion  that  they  were  guilty  of  offences  punishable  at 
common  law.  This  portion  of  the  Governor's  address 
was  referred  to  a  joint  committee  of  two  from  the  Sen 
ate,  and  three  from  the  House  of  Representatives.  By 
order  of  the  managers  of  the  Massachusetts  Antislavery 
Society,  Mr.  May,  as  their  general  agent,  addressed  a 
letter  to  this  committee,  asking  permission  to  appear 


ANTISLAVERY.  161 

before  them,  and  show  reasons  why  there  should  be  no 
legislative  action  of  the  kind  called  for  by  the  Southern 
legislatures.  The  request  was  granted,  and  the  4th 
of  March  fixed  for  the  hearing.  Mr.  May  opened  the 
case,  set  forth  the  principles  of  the  Abolitionists,  the 
grounds  and  methods  of  their  action,  and  the  objects 
they  desired  to  attain.  He  showed  that  their  warfare 
on  slavery  was  by  moral  means,  appealing  always  to 
the  honor  and  conscience  of  the  people,  and  to  the  ben 
eficial  effects  which  must  follow  from  a  great  act  of 
justice.  He  laid  before  the  committee  copies  of  the 
constitutions  of  the  antislavery  societies,  their  rules  of 
membership,  and  also  their  publications  generally.  He 
was  ably  supported  by  Dr.  Follen,  Ellis  Gray  Loring, 
S.  E.  Sewall,  Esq.,  William  Goodell,  and  others.  They 
did  not  speak  in  vain. 

Harriet  Martineau  was  m  our  country  during  some 
of  the  earlier  struggles  of  the  antislavery  cause,  and 
she  has  left  on  record,  in  her  "  Society  in  America," 
vol.  iii.  page  280,  her  estimate  of  Mr.  May :  — 

"  I  believe  Mr.  May  had  the  honor  of  being  the  first  Uni 
tarian  pastor  who  sided  with  the  right.  Whether  he  has 
sacrificed  to  his  intrepidity  one  Christian  grace ;  whether  he 
has  lost  one  charm  of  his  piety,  gentleness,  and  charity 
amidst  the  trials  of  insult  which  he  has  had  to  undergo,  I 
dare  appeal  to  his  worst  enemy.  Instead  of  this,  his  devotion 
to  a  most  difficult  duty  has  called  forth  in  him  a  force  of 
character,  a  strength  of  reason,  of  which  his  best  friends 
were  before  unaware.  It  filled  me  with  shame  for  the  weak 
ness  of  men,  in  their  noblest  offices,  to  hear  the  insolent  com- 


162  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

parison  with  which  some  of  his  priestly  brethren  spoke  of  a 
man  whom  they  have  not  light  and  courage  enough  to  follow 
through  the  thickets  and  deserts  of  duty,  and  upon  whom 
they  therefore  bestow  their  scornful  pity  from  out  of  their 
shady  bowers  of  complacency." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SOUTH  SCITUATE,  1836-1842. 

THE  COLD  WATER  ARMY. — A  PEACE  SOCIETY.  —  THE  MISSES 
GRIMKE.  —  A  MANLY  LETTER.  —  THEODORE  PARKER'S 
SERMON.  —  INTEREST  IN  EDUCATION.  —  SYMPATHY  WITH 
CHILDREN.  —  Miss  CAROLINE  TILDEN.  —  REV.  W.  P.  TIL- 
DEN. —  ACCEPTS  THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  LEXINGTON  NORMAL 
SCHOOL.  . 

MR.  MAY  was  installed  pastor  of  the  Church  in 
South  Scituate  on  the  26th  of  October,  1836,  and 
his  six  years'  ministry  there  was  a  very  happy  and  use 
ful  one.  It  is  still  fondly  remembered  by  many  grateful 
hearts  which  were  first  moved  to  give  themselves  to 
God  and  humanity  by  the  influence  of  his  life  and  spirit. 
His  presence  and  labors  occasioned  a  great  revival  of 
practical  Christianity,  which  was  not  limited  to  his 
own  parish,  but  spread  throughout  Plymouth  County  in 
churches  of  all  denominations.  Conventions  in  behalf 
of  many  philanthropic  causes  were  called,  and  largely 
attended  by  deeply  interested  persons. 

At  that  time  drunkenness  was  more  common  than 
it  is  now  ;  and  Mr.  May,  while  doing  his  utmost  to  im 
press  his  adult  hearers  with  a  sense  of  the  enormity  of 
the  evil,  and  the  extent  of  their  peril,  devoted  himself 
mainly  to  saving  the  young  from  this  vice.  He  enlisted 
a  Cold  Water  Army  composed  of  children  from  all 


164 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


parts  of  the  town,  procuring  music,  and  preparing  ban 
ners  with  appropriate  devices  designed  by  himself,  and 
mottoes  inscribed  in  his  own  handwriting.  Many  of 
these  are  still  carefully  preserved.  Although  not  re 
markable  as  works  of  art,  they  are  very  creditable 
specimens  of  his  taste  and  skill,  and  must  have  pro 
duced  a  fine  effect  when  he  marshalled  his  five  hundred 
young  followers  under  these  flags,  and  all  recited  in 
concert,  — 

"  So  here  we  pledge  perpetual  hate 
To  all  that  can  intoxicate." 

Often  they  marched  through  the  streets  with  Mr.  May 
at  their  head ;  but  sometimes  they  held  picnics  in  the 
groves  and  fields,  a  field  near  his  own  house  being  called 
The  Field  of  Waterloo. 

All  the  rum-shops  in  town  were  closed  with  one 
exception,  and  finally  this  obstinate  seller  capitulated. 
Mr.  May  resolved  to  have  a  public  execution  of  the 
last  enemy.  He  got  hold  of  the  remaining  liquors  in 
the  man's  shop,  procured  an  old  horse  and  cart  to 
carry  the  barrels  to  the  scene  of  action,  and  summoned 
his  little  army.  They  came  in  full  ranks  to  the  ap 
pointed  grove.  He  made  an  address,  led  them  in 
singing,  and  then  took  an  axe  and  beat  in  the  head  of 
every  barrel.  As  the  contents  flowed  forth  upon  the 
earth,  the  children  are  said  to  have  cheered  as  boys 
and  girls  have  seldom  cheered.  His  precepts  and  ex 
ample  made  such  an  impression  upon  some  of  their 
minds  that,  when  they  afterwards  became  members  of 
the  church,  they  would  never  partake  of  wine  even  at 
the  Lord's  Supper. 


SOUTH  SCITUATE,  1836-1842.  165 

He  organized  a  Peace  Society  in  the  Sunday  school, 
and  gave  six  copies  of  ""A  Kiss  for  a  Blow"  to  the 
library,  so  that  every  child  might  be  sure  to  read  it. 
Most  of  the  children  received  his  Gospe1  of  Universal 
Freedom  with  prompt  enthusiasm,  and  became  stanch 
adherents  of  the  antislavery  cause.  One  of  them  wrote, 
long  afterwards :  "  When  I  first  read  of  our  immortal 
Lincoln  signing  that  glorious  Proclamation  of  Emanci- 
.pation,  next  to  my  rejoicing  for  the  poor  slave  was  the 
thought,  '  Oh,  how  happy  Mr.  May  is  now !  I  am  so 
glad  he  has  lived  to  see  this  day.'" 

Early  in  1837  Sarah  and  Angelina  Grimke,  of  South 
Carolina,  came  to  Massachusetts,  invited  by  the  State 
Antislavery  Society  to  address  meetings  of  their  own 
sex.  At  first  Mr.  May's  sense  of  propriety  was  some 
what  disturbed,  but  he  soon  saw  that  it  was  "  a  miser 
able  prejudice  that  would  forbid  woman  to  speak  in 
behalf  of  the  suffering  just  as  her  heart  may  prompt, 
and  as  God  has  given  her  power."  He  invited  the 
Misses  Grimke  to  his  house,  and  made  arrangements 
for  their  meetings  in  Scituate,  Hingham,  and  Cohasset. 

He  was  so  active  in  the  antislavery  cause  and  in  other 
great  reforms,  while  at  South  Scituate,  that  some  per 
sons  thought  that  he  was  not  so  useful  in  the  ministry 
as  he  might  have  been  if  he  had  restricted  himself  to 
what  was  then  called  "the  Gospel."  But  his  course 
was  always  without  concealment,  and  without  compro 
mise.  We  are  not  fully  acquainted  with  the  circum 
stances  alluded  to  in  this  letter  which  we  have  found 
among  his  papers,  but  the  letter  itself  has  a  very  manly 
ring :  — 


166  UFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

SOUTH  SCITUATE,  June  25,  1839. 
REV.  C.  BRIGGS, 

Cor.  Sec' 'y  of  the  American  Unitarian  Association. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  Yours  of  yesterday  came  to  me  this  after- 
noon.  I  am  ready  and  willing  to  go  to  East  Greenwich  and 
labor  to  bring  those  who  will  hear  me  to  the  knowledge  of 
Christian  truth  as  it  is  understood  by  Unitarians.  But  if  I 
go  under  the  auspices  of  the  American  UnitariaD  Association, 
I  must  go  feeling  that  I  have  the  confidence  of  its  Executive 
Committee.  Unless  they  can  trust  me,  they  ought  not  to 
send  me. 

And  what  do  they  mean  by  ' '  Unitarian  cause  exclusively  "  ? 
I  believe  that  the  Unitarian  cause  includes  every  thing  that 
Christianity  includes.  Do  they  restrict  it  to  something  less  ? 
Or  do  they  suspect  me  of  wishing  to  spend  my  strength  for  any 
thing  that  Christianity  excludes  ?  If  they  wish  me  purposely 
to  omit,  in  my  preaching,  any  of  the  doctrines  or  precepts  of 
Christ,  I  cannot  act  as  their  agent.  If  they  apprehend  that 
I  shall  propound  some  false  doctrines,  or  inculcate  false  prin 
ciples,  they  ought  not  to  send  me  forth.  Are  they  unwilling 
I  should  show  the  people,  if  I  can,  that  Unitarian  principles 
are  fundamental  to  all  individual  improvement,  and  to  all 
social  reform?  And  that  Unitarian  Christians,  if  consistent, 
will  be  heartily  disposed  to  every  good  work  ?  If  they  are 
thus  unwilling,  I  cannot  consent  to  go  for  them. 

But  I  am  reluctant  to  believe  they  meant  what  their  note 
implies.  On  further  consideration,  I  hope  they  will  strike 
out  the  condition  they  have  prescribed,  and  let  me  go  to 
Greenwich  as  a  man,  and  a  Unitarian  Christian  especially, 
ought  to  go. 

I  shall  be  happy,  unless  prevented  by  something  now  un 
foreseen,  to  preach  at  East  Greenwich  the  second  and  third 
Sundays  in  August  next. 

Yours  truly,  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

We  give  the  following  anecdote  as  it  has  been  related 
by  Mr.  Parker  Pillsbury :  — 


SOUTH  SCITUATE,   1836-1842. 


167 


"  When  Theodore  Parker  preached  his  memorable  sermon 
at  the  ordination  of  Mr.  Shackford,  at  South  Boston,  Mr. 
May  was  the  settled  minister  of  South  Scituate,  Mass.  The 
sermon  was  printed,  and,  with  a  copy  of  it  in  my  valise,  I 
called,  in  my  regular  round  of  antislavery  lecturing,  on  Mr. 
May.  He  and  Mrs.  May  had  other  company,  but  insisted 
on  my  remaining  during  the  afternoon,  and  till  lecture  time. 
In  course  of  conversation,  the  new  heresy  and  its  author 
came  up,  and  I  asked  if  any  one  present  had  seen  the  ser 
mon.  None  had,  and  so  I  produced  it.  Mr.  May  proposed 
"that  I  should  read  it.  He  and  others  declining,  I  did  so.  1 
had  read  it,  and  had  marked  some  passages  as  of  peculiar  sig 
nificance,  and  so  endeavored  to  give  them  what  emphasis  I 
could  in  this  second,  but  wholly  unexpected,  reading,  and  to 
an  audience  so  worthy.  The  company  heard  me  in  silence 
to  the  last  word. 

"  After  a  pause,  Mr.  May  said  :  '  Oh,  is  not  that  a  beauti 
ful  sermon?  '  To  which  all  assented  in  general  terms  ;  but 
some  present  took  exception  to  some  passages.  Mr.  May, 
however,  defended  the  discourse  in  the  mam,  praised  the 
ability  and  extolled  the  heroism  of  its  author,  at  the  same 
time  murmuring  the  fear  that,  as  a  recognized  Unitarian 
minister,  he  had  sealed  his  doom. 

**  Mr.  May's  conduct  towards  Mr.  Parker  ever  after,  while 
he  preached  in  Boston,  and  while  he  lived,  proved  how  sin 
cere,  manly,  and  brotherly  was  his  regard  for  him  and  his 
work." 

Mr.  May  was  unwearied  in  his  interest  in  education. 
Through  his  instrumentality  several  bright  young 
women  were  persuaded  to  go  to  the  Normal  School,  and 
be  partially  sustained  there.  Their  own  fathers  could 
hardly  have  taken  greater  interest  and  pride  in  their 
subsequent  success.  To  one  of  them,  Mrs.  Helen  J. 
Parmenter,  now  of  Arlington,  Mass.,  we  are  indebted 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  'MAY. 

for  the  following  letter  relating  to  school  days  at  Scit- 
uate,  addressed  to  Rev.  W.  P.  Tilden : 

"We  used  to  enjoy  having  him  come  into  school.  He 
™as  always  delighted  with  us  if  we  did  well,  and  had  such 
pleasant  things  to  say  to  us.  He  was  particularly  desirous 
that  we  should  be  good  readers  and  spellers;  and  to  this  day 
I  hardly  ever  write  the  word  separate  without  thinking 
of  him,  he  used  to  ask  us  so  often  whether  there  should  be 
an  a  or  an  e  after  the  p.  - 

11  He  used  to  bring  his  father  in  to  see  us  when  he  came  to 
Scituate,  and  in  so  many  ways  made  us  children  in  that  little, 
old,  poor  school-house  feel  that  we  were  of  some  account. 
When  I  got  to  be  one  of  the  largest  girls,  he  used  to  bring 
into  the  school  letters  for  us  to  copy.  He  had  so  many 
letters  to  write  that,  when  he  wanted  duplicates  of  any,  we 
often  used  to  help  him.  Very  careful  we  were,  I  can  assure 
you,  that  there  should  be  no  words  spelled  wrong,  and  that 
the  writing  should  be  our  very  best. 

"  One  thing  that  endeared  him  very  much  to  the  children 
was  his  sympathy  with  them  in  their  enjoyments,  and  the 
interest  he  showed  hi  promoting  their  pleasure  in  every  pos 
sible  way.  As  an  instance  of  this,  he  had  a  nice  swing  put 
up  under  a  large  tree  near  his  house,  between  the  school- 
house  and  his  home. 

"  But  how  interminable  would  be  the  list  of  kind  and 
helpful  deeds  with  which  his  long  life  was  filled,  more  than 
filled,  running  over!  I  wonder  if  you  have  the  same  feeling 
that  I  have  when  you  come  across  persons  that  never  saw  or 
knew  him,  a  feeling  of  commiseration,  as  if  a  great  blessing 
had  been  withheld,  as  if  their  lives  must  necessarily  be  by  so 
much  the  poorer? 

tkl  suppose  they  told  you  in  Scituate  all  about  his  last 
visit,  when  they  had  a  picnic  and  such  a  grand  reception  for 
him.  Emily  read  a  poem  of  welcome.  Mr.  May  tried  to 
reply,  but  could  not,  for  tears." 


SOUTH  SC1TUATE,  1836-1842.  169 

Miss  Caroline  Tilden,  of  South  Scituate,  afterwards 
became  Mr.  May's  assistant  in  the  Normal  School  at 
Lexington.  He  said,  in  1867  :  — 

1 '  I  discovered  her  genius  while  she  was  the  modest  mistress 
of  a  village  school,  and  induced  her  to  go  to  tho.  Normal 
School  at  Bridgewater.  She  prepared  herself  to  be  the 
inspiring  genius  of  many  who  were  seeking  to  acquire  the 
art  of  teaching." 

In  his  life  at  Scituate  nothing  interested  Mr.  May 
more,  or  gave  him  greater  satisfaction,  than  his  suc 
cess  in  confirming  the  purpose  of  Rev.  W.  P.  Tilden 
to  become  a  Christian  minister.  He  always  looked 
back  to  the  instruction  and  encouragement  given  to  this 
dear  son  in  the  faith  with  especial  pride  and  delight. 
What  this  intimate  and  tender  relation  was  to  Mr. 
Tilden,  we  may  learn  from  his  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
his  spiritual  father,  in  the  "  Religious  Magazine." 

"  Perhaps  I  cannot  better  hint  of  the  blessing  he  was  to 
many  than  by  first  telling  a  little  of  what  he  was  to  one.  I 
first  became  acquainted  with  him  in  South  Scituate  about 
thirty-five  years  ago,  when  he  came,  fresh  from  his  faithful 
service  as  General  Agent  of  the  Antislavery  Society,  to  become 
the  minister  of  my  native  parish.  I  was  at  this  period  using 
what  time  I  could  spare  from  daily  toil  in  study,  hoping,  if 
possible,  some  day  to  enter  the  Christian  ministry.  But  I 
soon  found  that  the  path  from  the  ship-yard  to  the  pulpit 
was  not  carpeted  with  flowers.  '  The  pursuit  of  knowledge 
under  difficulties,'  so  fascinating  in  books,  I  found  a  some 
what  different  thing  in  real  work-day  life;  and  I  confess  that 
at  times  the  sky  grew  very  dark.  The  light  of  hope,  at  first 
so  bright,  receded  from  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude  to  a  far- 
off  glimmer  in  the  upper  deep,  and  sometimes  threatened  to 
8 


170  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

go  out  in  darkness.  Just  at  this  time  came  Mr.  May.  Ho 
took  my  hand;  the  sky  cleared.  He  clasped  it  in  that  broad, 
warm,  loving  palm:  the  star  came  back,  full-orbed  and 
glorious.  Oh,  what  a  clasp  that  right  hand  had!  He  never 
gave  his  finger-tips.  He  gave  the  whole  palm,  and  it  carried 
with  it  a  whole  flood  of  sympathy  and  strength.  He  seemed 
to  have  an  extra  set  of  nerves  made  for  the  special  purpose  of 
transmitting  sympathy  and  cheer  straight  from  his  heart  to 
ours.  For  three  blessed  years  I  was  in  almost  daily  inter 
course  with  him.  I  heard  him  preach  on  Sundays,  and, 
what  was  better,  saw  him  practise  through  the  week  what  ha 
preached.  I  read  with  him,  studied  with  him,  talked  with 
him,  laughed  with  him,  prayed  with  him,  worked  with  him; 
went  to  temperance,  antislavery,  and  peace  meetings  with 
him;  superintended  his  Sabbath-school:  till  at  last  he  en 
trapped  me  to  preach  for  him,  and  then  sent  me  out  with 
his  blessing  to  preach  to  others.  How  brightly  the  light 
of  those  golden  days  shines  through  the  azure  distance  of 
thirty  years!" 

On  the  12th  of  September,  1842,  Mr.  May  made  the 
following  entry  in  his  diary :  — 

.  "This  day  I  have  left  South  Scituate  and  removed  to 
Lexington,  to  take  charge  of  the  Lexington  Normal  School, 
instituted  three  years  ago  for  the  preparation  of  female 
teachers  for  our  common  schools.  I  have  been  induced  to 
take  this  step  by  the  urgent  solicitation  of  Hon.  Horace 
Mann,  Secretary  of  the  Board  of  Education,  and  of  Rev. 
Cyrus  Pierce,  the  former  teacher  of  this  school,  who,  by 
the  multiplicity  of  his  cares  and  the  severity  of  his  labors, 
has  been  overborne  and  obliged  to  retire.  He  and  Mr. 
Mann  have  not  indeed  persuaded  me  that  I  am  competent  to 
the  place,  but  they  have  induced  me  to  attempt  to  do  the 
duties  that  are  incumbent  upon  the  Principal  of  the  school. 
I  pray  God  for  wisdom  to  direct  me,  and  for  strength  to 
sustain." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

PRINCIPAL    OF    THE    STATE    NORMAL    SCHOOL   AT 
LEXINGTON. 

LETTER  TO  HORACE  MANN  ABOUT  THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  NOR 
MAL,  SCHOOL  EDUCATION.  —  THE  SPIRIT  IN  WHICH  HE 
GOES  TO  HIS  NEW  DUTIES.  —  His  QUALIFICATIONS  FOR 
THE  WORK.  —  BECOMES  DISCOURAGED.  —  CHEERING  LET 
TERS  FROM  MESSRS.  PIERCE  AND  MANN.  —  DEFENCE  OF 

HIS     ATTENDING     AN     ANTISLAVERY     MEETING     AND     TAKING 

SOME  OF  HIS  PUPILS. — RESIGNS  IN  FAVOR  OF  MR.  PIERCE. 
—  THE  SECRET  OF  MR.  MAY'S  SUCCESS  AS  A  TEACHER. — 
"LovE  THE  UNLOVELY." 

IV  TR.  MANN  found  a  warmer  living  interest  in  com- 
-L»-l-  mon  school  education  in  Plymouth  County  than 
almost  anywhere  else,  and  traced  it,  in  a  large  degree, 
to  the  active  interest  of  Mr.  May,  in  speaking  of  whom 
it  is  not  just  to  forget  the  zeal  and  activity  of  Rev. 
Charles  Brooks,  in  another  part  of  the  county. 

On  Feb.  13,  1842,  Mr.  Mann  received  the  following 
letter : — 

HON.  HORACE  MANN. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  I  heard,  a  few  days  ago,  that  application  is 
to  be  made  to  our  legislature,  during  the  present  session,  for 
a  grant  of  means  to  sustain  our  Normal  Schools,  at  least  for 
another  term  of  three  years.  Let  it  be  done,  and  earnestly 
done.  I  cannot  think  it  will  be  unsuccessful.  It  ought  not 
to  fail.  There  is  no  project  which  the  legislators  of  a  free 


172  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

people  should  be  more  careful  to  encourage  than  one  for  the 
better  education  of  the  whole  people.  .  .  . 

I  have  heard  of  good  done  by  the  Normal  Schools  at  Lex 
ington  and  Barre,  but  I  have  seen  the  good  effects  of  our  own 
school  at  Bridgewater,  although  it  has  been  in  operation 
only  seventeen  months. 

He  then  gives  several  instances  of  striking  success  in 
the  teaching  of  young  persons  who,  before  they  went  to 
the  Normal  School,  had  been  rather  poor  teachers. 

One  kept,  in  this  town,  the  Union  or  High  School.  Many 
thought  she  had  undertaken  more  than  she  could  perform. 
...  I  confess  I  trembled  for  her.  But  the  success  of  her 
labors  was  complete;  it  was  beautiful.  For  the  first  two 
or  three  weeks,  appearances  were  squally.  She  had  not  the 
physical  ability,  if  she  had  had  the  disposition,  to  force  her 
pupils  to  observe  her  directions  and  attend  diligently  to  then* 
studies.  At  the  close  of  the  first  month,  however,  the  clouds 
had  dispersed,  and  the  sunshine  of  peace  and  love  had  settled 
upon  her  school.  She  had  succeeded  in  perfectly  establish 
ing  her  authority,  by  inspiring  her  pupils  with  respect  and 
affection  for  herself,  and  so  generally  with  a  desire  to  learn, 
that  the  public  sentiment  of  the  school  was  favorable  to  study 
and  good  order.  .  .  .  The  discipline  of  the  school  was  unusu 
ally  strict ;  not  the  least  whispering  was  allowed.  ...  I 
never  was  in  a  school  so  still.  ...  A  strict  account  was 
kept  of  the  deportment  of  the  pupils,  and  the  number  of 
violations  of  the  rules  of  the  school  was  incredibly  small. 
More  progress  had  been  made,  when  I  visited  the  school,  at 
Us  close,  than  I  have  ever  known  to  be  made  in  any  common 
school  during  the  same  length  of  time  ;  and  the  recitations 
of  the  pupils  were  altogether  more  satisfactory.  .  .  .  Per 
haps  some  may  surmise  that  this  young  lady  has  naturally 
an  aptness  to  teach.  I  think  it  probable  that  she  has.  But 
her  talent  was  developed  at  the  Normal  School ;  for  she  had 


PRINCIPAL  OF  NORMAL  SCHOOL.          173 

tried  school-keeping  before  she  went  to  Bridgewater,  and  had 
not  been  very  successful,  for  the  want  of  something  which 
she  acquired  under  Mr.  Tillinghast's  instructions.  .  .  . 
I  am,  very  respectfully,  yours, 

SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

When  Mr.  Cyrus  Pierce,  the  first  Principal  of  the 
State  Normal  School,  broke  down  from  over-exertion, 
Mr.  Mann  urged  Mr.  May  to  take  his  place.  It  was  in 
vain  that  Mr.  May  declared  his  incompetency  to  the 
•duties  of  teaching,  and  entire  content  with  his  place 
and  office  in  the  pulpit.  Mr.  Mann  insisted ;  and  Mr. 
May  consented  to  go,  on  condition  that  Miss  Caroline 
Tilden,  "  who  did  know  how  to  teach,"  should  accom 
pany  him.  In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Mann,  of  July  29,  in 
answer,  he  says :  — 

"  Nothing  prevents  my  saying,  at  once,  that  I  will  accept 
the  appointment,  if  the  Board  see  fit  to  make  it,  but  the  con 
sciousness  of  my  inability  to  perform  well  all  the  duties  of 
the  station.  I  do  not  know  of  any  other  place  of  usefulness 
into  which  I  should  so  rejoice  to  be  put,  if  I  were  competent 
to  fill  it  as  it  ought  to  be  filled." 

These  misgivings  were  compelled  to  give  way  to  the 
urgency  of  Mr.  Mann  and  Mr.  Pierce. 
On  August  17th  he  writes  :  — 

"DEAR  SIR, —  It  has  leaked  out  that  I  am  to  be  Mr. 
Pierce 's  successor.  The  girls  suspected  as  much  from  my 
visit  of  two  days  last  week;  .  .  .  and  Mr.  Pierce,  taking  it 
for  granted  that  your  nomination  would  fix  the  choice  of  the 
Board,  allowed  himself  to  encourage  their  suspicion,  so  that 
ye&terday  it  went  forth  on  the  wings  of  common  report.  So 
far  as  my  feelings  are  concerned,  this  need  give  you  no  pain. 


174  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Much  as  I  long  to  give  myself  to  the  cause  of  education, 
which  alone  can  effect  that  reform,  or  those  reforms,  in  the 
personal  and  social  state  of  man  which  it  is  my  heart's  desire 
and  prayer  to  witness,  the  load  of  responsibility,  care,  and 
labor  that  Mr.  Pierce  has  laid  down  is  so  weighty  that  1  shall 
feel  relieved  if  I  may  be  excused  from  taking  it  up. 

"  Of  course  you  will  inform  me,  so  soon  as  the  decision  of 
the  Board  is  known  to  yourself.  I  have  a  surgical  operation 
to  go  through,  in  separating  myself  from  my  people  at  South 
Scituate,  which  cannot  be  despatched  in  a  day." 

On  the  5th  of  November,  he  writes  to  Mr.  Mann :  — 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  I  have  passed  the  Rubicon,  and  burnt 
up  my  boats.  I  went  last  Saturday  to  Scituate,  took  a  final 
leave  of  my  Society,  demolished  my  home,  removed  my  fur 
niture,  and  came  back  to  Lexington,  resolved  to  give  up  my 
self,  body  and  soul,  to  the  cause  of  education.  You  can  have 
little  idea  of  the  struggle  it  has  cost  me.  But,  now  it  is  over, 
I  feel  relieved,  calm,  resolved,  cheerful.  I  dread  nothing 
save  the  question,  between  myself  and  the  Board,  respecting 
the  admission  of  a  colored  girl.  That,  however,  may  never 
arise.  I  think  it  never  will  arise.  If  it  should,  I  hope  I  shall 
be  directed  into  the  right  course." 

Mr.  May  and  Miss  Tilden  went  together  to  the  school 
at  Lexington,  where  Mr.  May  supplied  his  deficiencies 
in  experience  and  practice  by  qualities  higher  than  mere 
skill  in  teaching,  though  that  is  a  very  high,  and  was 
then  a  very  rare,  quality ;  and  Miss  Tilden,  who  had 
been  instructed  by  Mr.  Tillinghast,  introduced  a  style 
of  teaching  which  was  unsurpassed,  and,  perhaps,  un 
surpassable. 

It  is  a  precious  fact  that  Mr.  May,  by  the  purity,  ele 
vation,  and  disinterestedness  of  his  Christian  character, 


PRINCIPAL  01   NORMAL  SCHOOL.          175 

without  large  experience  or  skill  in  teaching,  should 
have  been  able  to  raise  the  tone  of  a  school,  the  excel 
lence  of  which,  from  the  integrity,  devotedness,  and 
skill  of  its  first  teacher,  Mr.  Pierce,  had  secured  the 
blessings  of  Normal  School  instruction  to  the  schools 

O 

of  Massachusetts. 

On  the  29th  of  next  September,  however,  he  writes 
to  Mr.  Mann :  — 

-  "DEAR  SIR, —  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  resign  my 
place  as  Principal,  .  .  .  and  wish  you  to  consider  this  a 
tender  of  my  resignation." 

After  enumerating  various  difficulties,  especially  the 
severity  of  the  labors  and  cares,  and  their  effects  upon 
his  nerves,  so  that  he  cannot  sleep,  and  upon  his 
lungs,  so  that  he  can  hardly  speak,  he  adds :  —  « 

1 '  But,  more  than  all,  I  find  myself  incompetent  to  the  du 
ties  of  the  place.  The  Institution,  I  fear,  will  decline  in  my 
hands.  I  know  what  it  should  be;  but  I  have  so  little  facility 
in  managing  the  details  of  the  plan,  that  dissatisfaction  has 
been  the  reward  of  my  labors,  almost  every  night. 

"  Were  it  not  for  this,  if  I  could  see  the  Normal  School 
flourishing,  or  foresee  that  it  would  flourish,  under  my  ad 
ministration,  I  should  '  count  it  all  joy '  to  spend  and  be 
spent  in  its  behalf.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  would  willingly 
die,  if  by  such  a  sacrifice  I  could  make  the  school  what  it 
should  be. 

"  I  will  remain  at  Lexington,  if  you  wish,  several  weeks, 
that  you  may  have  time  to  find  a  successor." 

After  suggesting  the  names  of  several  persons  aa 
likely  to  fill  the  place  successfully,  he  concludes :  — 


176  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

"  In  resigning  this  most  interesting  charge,  I  cannot  with 
hold  heart-felt  expressions  of  gratitude  to  you,  sir,  for  the 
favor  you  have  intended,  and  for  the  great  kindness  you  have 
uniformly  shown  me." 

To  this  doleful  letter  Mr.  Mann  made  a  cheerful  and 
most  witty  answer,  and  really  laughed  him  out  of  his 
downheartedness.  He  received  a  letter  from  Rev.  C. 
Pierce,  Sept.  27, 1843,  in  which  he  comes  to  Mr.  Mann's 
aid:  — 

"  DEAR  MAY,  —  Yours  of  the  23d  instant,  which  came  to 
hand  yesterday,  though  a  very  good  and  interesting  letter  on 
the  whole,  has,  in  one  part,  so  troubled  me  that  I  cannot 
longer  defer  answering  it.  The  amount  of  it  is  this  :  In  very 
smooth  and  pleasant,  yet  in  very  plain  terms,  you  charge 
upon  me  the  enormity  of  '  enticing  and  nattering  you  away 
into  the  Normal  School ; '  and,  in  language  of  grave  reproof, 
put  the  interrogatory,  «  How  could  you,  after  thirty  years' 
experience,  think  I  was  fit  for  it?  ' 

•'  Now,  dear  cJiild,  hear  my  defence,  as  strange  as  it  may 
seem  to  you.  I  thought  then,  and  I  think  now,  there  was  no 
person  into  whose  hands  I  could  so  safely  commit  the  school 
as  into  yours.  My  reasons  are  these  :  1.  God  has  "blessed 
you,  as  I  think,  with  the  right  temper  and  disposition  for  a 
schoolmaster  (a  very  important  qualification)  ;  2.  You  have 
a  deep  interest  in  children  and  school  education  ;  and,  3.  The 
drift  of  your  reading,  habit  of  thinking,  and  general  knowl 
edge  have  been  such  as  to  adapt  you  to  the  office  of  teacher. 
If  I  did  not  make  allowance  enough  on  the  score  of  difficulty 
from  the  want  of  experience,  .  .  .  yet  still,  in  one  calcula 
tion,  I  was  not  in  error ;  namely,  that  your  diligence  and 
aptness  to  learn  would  fast  make  up  for  any  want  of  experi 
ence.  Time,  if  I  do  not  misjudge,  is  rapidly  showing  that  I 
was  right  in  my  conjecture.  Resign!  resign!!  You  have 
begun  auspiciously.  Perge  quo  cozpisti.  The  school  has 


PRINCIPAL   OF  NORMAL  SCHOOL.  177 

• 

risen  and  enlarged  in  your  hands.  What  would  you  have? 
.  .  .  Dismiss  all  thoughts  of  resignation,  and  hold  on  the 
even  tenor  of  your  way,  steady  as  the  needle  to  the  pole." 

In  the  course  of  the  next  winter,  however,  Mr.  Mann 
wrote  to  him,  finding  fault  with  his  having  gone  to  an 
antislavery  meeting  at  Waltham,  taking  some  of  his 
pupils,  and  making  a  speech  there.  To  this  he  imme 
diately  answered:  — 

LEXINGTON,  Feb.  8,  1843. 
HON.  HORACE  MANN. 

MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  I  am  sorry  to  have  caused  you  so  much 
anxiety,  and  hasten  to  relieve  you  as  far  as  I  may. 

As  to  the  lecture,  from  the  delivery  of  which  you  appre 
hend  so  much  evil,  I  made  up  my  mind,  several  days  ago, 
that  I  could  not  take  time  enough  to  prepare  such  a  one  as  I 
should  he  willing  to  deliver  in  the  proposed  course,  without 
neglecting  my  immediate,  paramount  duties  here  ;  and  there 
fore  determined  to  withdraw  my  name  from  the  list  of  lec 
turers.  Accordingly,  I  wrote  to  my  antislavery  friends  to 
this  effect. 

It  is  my  wish  still  to  be  known  of  all  men  as  an  Abolition 
ist.  Nothing  seems  to  me  so  impious,  foolhardy,  fanatical, 
as  the  attempt  to  perpetuate  slavery  in  our  country,  although 
I  see  so  many  of  "the  wise  and  prudent"  enlisted  on  that 
behalf.  It  is  my  intention  to  do  what  I  may,  without  neglect 
ing  or  slighting  my  duties  to  the  Normal  School,  to  aid  the 
antislavery  cause.  I  declared  this  intention  to  you,  most 
explicitly,  in  our  first  conversation  at  Bridgewater.  I  told 
you  that,  whenever  I  could,  without  a  dereliction  :  f  duty,  I 
should  attend  antislavery  meetings  ;  that  I  should  retain  my 
office  in  the  Massachusetts  and  American  antislavery  socie 
ties, —  and  contribute  to  their  funds  all  the  more,  because  I 
should  not  be  able  to  serve  them  otherwise,  as  I  have  been 
wont  to  do.  I  assured  you,  if  I  took  charge  of  this  Institu- 
8*  L 


178  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

tion,  that  the  care  of  it  should  be  my  first  object  of  attention, 
and  that  to  its  interests  I  would  devote  the  best  powers  of 
my  mind.  And  I  predicted  that  I  should  have  but  little  time 
or  thought  to  spare  to  other  subjects,  however  important.  I 
have  thus  far  done  as  I  promised  ;  and  if  I  continue  here 
I  shall  be  as  devoted  as  I  have  been. 

My  going  to  Waltham,  and  carrying  with  me  a  number  of 
my  pupils,  was  no  departure  from  the  course  I  prescribed  to 
myself  at  first,  nor  did  it  involve  any  neglect  of  duty.  My 
speech  there  took  up  no  more  of  my  time  than  was  occupied 
in  the  utterance  of  it.  It  was  not  a  written  nor  a  premedi- 
ta^ed  address,  but  wholly  extempore.  The  meeting  was 
held  on  a  Saturday  evening.  I  could  therefore  go  without 
leaving  any  thing  undone.  Many  of  my  pupils  are  Aboli 
tionists.  They  were  so  when  they  came  here,  or  were  made 
so  by  Father  Pierce.  They  expressed  a  desire  to  attend  the 
meeting,  to  which  they,  with  the  rest  of  the  people,  were 
invited  by  placards  sent  over  from  Waltham  and  scattered 
through  our  village.  It  was  very  fine  sleighing,  which  made 
them  more  desirous  to  go.  The  getting  ready  took  but  a 
short  time.  We  went,  and  enjoyed  the  meeting  highly,  ex 
cepting  an  injudicious  speech.  If  the  young  lady  to  whom 
you  referred  in  a  former  letter  really  was  prevented  from 
joining  our  school  by  the  reason  you  have  assigned,  she 
must  be,  I  think,  in  mind  and  heart  very  inferior  to  many 
who  are  now  in  it. 

Nor  was  my  consenting  to  be  one  of  the  lecturers  of  the 
proposed  course  any  breach  of  my  important  trust.  I  con 
sented,  supposing  my  turn  would  come  in  my  next  vacation, 
and  that  I  should  be  left  to  take  a  subject  upon  which  I  have 
a  carefully  prepared  address.  But  when  I  saw  the  advertise 
ment  of  the  course,  I  found  that  another  (Wendell  Phillips) 
had  taken  my  subject,  and  that  another  subject  had  been 
assigned  to  me,  upon  which  I  felt  little  inclined  to  write,  and 
unable  to  do  so  well,  without  a  careful  revision  of  my  former 
opinions,  and  much  study  of  recent  documents.  This  deter 
mined  me  to  withdraw  from  the  course. 


PRINCIPAL   OF  NORMAL  SCHOOL. 


179 


I  have  gone  thus  at  length  into  an  account  of  myself,  be 
cause  I  wish  to  satisfy  you,  if  I  may,  that  I  have  not  been 
unmindful  of  my  charge,  and  that  I  shall  not  be. 

And  now,  my  friend,  allow  me  to  say  to  you,  that  I  think 
your  fear  of  the  effect  of  my  Abolitionism  upon  the  prosperity 
of  the  Normal  School  is  undue.  This  heresy  is  rapidly  be 
coming  orthodoxy  in  our  Commonwealth.  It  is  embraced  by 
a  much  larger  portion  than  you  are  aware  of,  of  that  class  of 
the  people  which  furnishes  the  most  of  our  school-teachers. 
I  have  myself  been  surprised  to  find  so  large  a  part  of  my 
ptpils  zealous  in  the  antislavery  cause.  But  if  you  and  the 
other  supporters  of  the  school  are  to  be  made  unhappy,  and 
filled  with  alarm,  whenever  I  do  or  say  any  thing  that  shows 
how  deeply  I  am  interested  in  the  redemption  of  our  country 
from  the  curse  of  slavery,  it  will  certainly  be  better  for  me 
quietly  to  withdraw,  on  the  plea  of  my  incompetency,  and 
leave  the  Institution  in  better  hands. 

Yours  very  truly,  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

I  am  happy  to  inform  you  that  the  Normal  School  is  full, 
and  that  there  are  thirty  pupils  in  the  Model  School,  which 
is  doing  finely. 

The  school  continued  to  flourish  and  to  increase 
rapidly*  in  numbers.  When  he  took  it  there  were 
thirty-one  pupils:  in  June,  1844,  he  wrote  to  Mr. 
Mann  that  there  were  sixty-six,  of  whom  thirty-one 
belonged  to  the  Freshman  class. 

In  July,  he  tells  Mr.  Mann  that  he  hears  that  Mr. 
Pierce  has  almost  entirely  recovered  his  health,  and, 
"  if  he  can  be  induced  to  return,"  he  says,  "  I  cannot 
persuade  myself  that  I  ought  to  remain  here.  He  haa 
much  vigor  of  mind  and  body  left,  and  it  is  a  pity  that 
his  experience,  wisdom,  and  skill  should  not  be  given  to 


180  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

the  Normal  enterprise.  I  presume  the  Board  would 
rejoice  to  have  him  again  in  their  service;  and  I  hope, 
before  the  close  of  this  term,  to  send  you  my  resigna 
tion  in  his  favor." 

Very  soon  after,  he  sends  to  Mr.  Mann  the  following 
letter :  — 

LEXINGTON,  July  17,  1844. 
HON.  HORACE  MANN. 

DEAR  SIR, — I  hasten  to  forward  you  the  enclosed  from 
Mr.  Pierce. 

Knowing,  as  I  do,  how  highly  you  and  other  members  of  the 
Board  esteem  Mr.  Pierce  as  a  teacher,  I  doubt  not  you  will 
all  rejoice  to  see  him  again  in  the  place  where  he  did  you  and 
the  Commonwealth  such  good  service. 

If  he  will  accept,  as  he  seems  disposed  to  do,  the  arrange 
ments  I  have  made,  he  will  keep  even  a  better  school  than  he 
did  before.  If  he  will  retain  Miss  Tilden  and  Miss  Lincoln 
as  his  assistants,  and  keep  up  the  musical  and  the  drawing 
departments, — with  his  vigilant  oversight  and  vigorous  and 
exact  executive  talents,  he  will  make  this  Institution  much 
more  efficient  than  it  was  before  in  his  hands,  and  incompar 
ably  more  so  than  it  would  ever  be  in  mine.  I  am  too  indul 
gent,  and  cannot  help  being.  I  am  not,  therefore,  sufficiently 
thorough  and  exact  in  all  my  requirements.  Mr.  Pierce  is 
as  kind  a  man  as  lives ;  and  yet  he  never  swerves  from  the 
line  he  has  marked,  nor  allows  others  to  swerve.  He  is 
the  man  for  this  place,  and  I  am  confident  that  I  am  doing 
the  cause  of  education  a  better  service  in  resigning  this 
school  into  his  hands  than  I  could  do  by  retaining  it. 

In  a  few  days  I  will  send,  through  your  hands,  to  the 
Board  of  Education  my  formal  resignation.  I  despatch  this 
to  you,  that  you  may  have  all  the  time  you  can  have  between 
now  and  the  opening  of  the  next  term  to  make  what  arrange 
ments  you  may  wish  to  make  with  my  successor. 


PRINCIPAL   OF  NORMAL  SCHOOL.  181 

During  the  vacation,  if  possible,  but  certainly  before  your 
annual  report  is  presented,  I  mean  to  furnish  you  with 
evidences  of  the  usefulness  of  this  Institution. 
With  great  esteem,  yours, 

SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Mr.  May's  success  in  the  school  was  complete,  giving 
entire  satisfaction  to  all  but  himself.  In  the  following 
extracts  from  a  letter  to  Mr.  Mann,  of  Oct.  20,  1844, 
after  he  had  left  the  school,  he  gives  the  secret  of  his 
success :  — 

"My  DEAR  SIR,  — I  thank  you  heartily  for  giving  me  notice 
of  the  Essex  County  Teachers'  Convention.  I  went  to  it,  and 
rejoice  that  I  did  so.  It  was  a  large  gathering;  and  there 
were  several  choice  spirits  there  besides  Drf  P.  Page,  who  is 
first-rate.  .  .  . 

"I  ventured  to  address  the  meeting  upon  the  subject  of 
the  management  of  schools;  and  the  reception  given  to  my 
remarks  (I  say  it  sub  rosa),  while  it  gratified  me  much,  sur 
prised  me  not  a  little.  I  first  dwelt  for  a  few  minutes  upon 
the  importance  of  attention  to  little  things,  applying  to 
schools  the  old  adage,  l  Take  care  of  the  pence,  and  the 
pounds  will  take  care  of  themselves.' 

"  And  then  I  urged,  at  some  length,  that  teachers  should 
go  into  their  schools  in  the  spirit  of  Christ,  meaning  to  seek 
and  to  save  them  that  are  lost;  being  especially  mindful  of 
the  neglected,  ill-looking,  ill-dressed,  ill-tempered,  not  wish 
ing  them  away,  but  rejoicing  to  have  an  opportunity  to  do 
for  them  in  school  what  is  not  done  for  them  at  home.  Let 
this  class  of  children  be  at  once  made  to  feel  that  they  are 
really  cared  for;  that  they  are  not  shunned,  but  sought  after; 
not  despised,  but  valued;  not  doubted,  but  trusted;  not 
despaired  of,  but  hoped  for:  let  them  be  treated  thus,  and  a 
prolific  source  of  trouble  in  schools  would  be  dried  up.  Love 
the  unlovely,  and  they  will  put  their  unloveliness  away 


182  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Several  arose  in  quick  succession,  and  declared  this  to  be  the 
most  important  suggestion  they  had  yet  received.  Father  G. 
said  (miraUle  dictu!)  that  this  was  entirely  new  to  him;  that 
he  had  never  before  heard  this  method  proposed;  that  he  felt 
deeply  that  there  was  a  great  truth  in  it;  and  that  he  would  go 
home  and  try  to  act  in  accordance  with  it.  So  said  several 
others;  and  *  love  the  unlovely  '  was  heard  from  various  quar 
ters  as  we  were  going  out  of  the  house,  along  the  road,  and 
after  we  had  reached  the  hotel.  I  was  really  a  little  discon 
certed  to  find  that  it  was  a  new  discovery  to  so  many,  that 
'  evil  might  be  overcome  with  good  '  in  schools  no  less  than 
elsewhere." 

On  the  20th  of  August,  1844,  Mr.  May  writes  to 
Mr.  Mann  :  — 

"Father  Pierce  spent  Saturday  night  and  Sunday  with 
me.  It  did  my  heart  good  to  see  how  much  he  has  revived 
since  his  reappointment.  Now  that  all  the  teachers  of  the 
Normal  School  are  of  my  selection,  I  am  confident  it  will 
nourish  as  it  never  could  have  done  under  the  Principal  you 
persuaded  to  take  it  two  years  ago.  So  confident  arn  I,  that 
I  will  almost  promise,  if  I  am  disappointed,  to  assist  you  to 
get  the  last  incumbent  back  and  never  stir  a  finger  to  remove 
him  again. 

"  I  settled  my  account  with  the  treasurer  yesterday,  allow 
ing  my  connection  with  the  school  to  cease  with  the  close  of 
this  month;  so  that  Father  Pierce's  salary  may  commence 
with  the  first  of  September.  .  .  . 

"  A  few  weeks  hence  I  hope  to  be  more  at  liberty,  and  then 
I  will  devote  some  time  to  lecturing  in  the  cause  of  educa 
tion.  Respectfully,  your  obliged  friend, 

"  SAMUEL  .J.  MAY." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

MINISTRY  AT  SYRACUSE. 

GAVE  HIS  VIEWS  OF  REFORMS  WHILE  PREACEJNG  AS  A  CAN 
DIDATE.  —  STATS  IN  LEXINGTON  TO  SETTLE  A  DIFFICULTY 
ABOUT  A  CHURCH  FUND.  —  His  PREACHING.  —  His  PAS 
TORAL  LIFE.  —  OUTSIDE  MINISTRIES.  —  THE  CANAL  BOYS. 
-  — POPULAR  LECTURES.  —  ASYLUMS.  —  THE  ONONDAGA  IN 
DIANS. —  THE  RIGHTS  OF  WOMAN.  —  SERMON  BEFORE  THE 
GRADUATING  CLASS  AT  CAMBRIDGE  DIVINITY  SCHOOL. — 
PUBLIC  DISCUSSION  OF  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  THE  TRINITY. 
—  THEODORE  PARKER. — LUTHER  LEE.  —  MARKET-HALL 
DISCUSSIONS.— RESIGNS  HIS  PASTORATE. — MISSIONARY  OP 
THE  AMERICAN  UNITARIAN  ASSOCIATION. 

TN  1843,  while  on  a  journey  to  Niagara  Falls,  Mr. 
-*•  May  occupied  the  pulpit  of  Rev.  J.  P.  B.  Storer 
at  Syracuse,  for  several  Sundays.  When  Mr.  Storer's 
sudden  death  deprived  this  young  church  of  their 
pastor,  they  sent  for  Mr.  May ;  and,  after  hearing  him 
again,  gave  him  a  unanimous  invitation  to  become  their 
minister.  The  call  was  accepted  the  more  readily 
because,  during  the  week  between  the  two  Sundays 
when  he  was  preaching  practically  as  a  candidate,  he 
had  delivered  addresses  on  the  reforms  in  which  he  was 
deeply  interested.  He  said,  "  I  intended  they  should 
clearly  understand  whom  they  were  calling,  if  they 
called  me." 

He  began  to  discharge  the  duties  of  his  new  post  in 
April,  1845.  In  one  of  the  notes  appended  to  hia 
"Brief  Account  of  his  Ministry,"  he  says:  — 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

11 1  should  have  come  to  reside  in  Syracuse  several  months 
sooner  than  I  did,  but  for  a  serious,  vexatious  difficulty  in 
which  the  churches  of  Lexington  had  been  involved  for 
twenty  years  or  more,  respecting  a  large  fund  for  the  support 
of  the  ministry  of  the  town.  The  fund  was  created  by  sub 
scriptions  and  donations  at  an  early  day,  when  there  was 
only  one  Church  there.  But  in  process  of  time  differences 
of  theological  belief  had  arisen  amongst  the  people,  and 
churches  of  several  denominations  had  been  gathered.  Each 
of  these  claimed  a  share  of  the  fund.  It  became  the  subject 
of  repeated  litigation.  The  decisions  of  the  courts  and  of 
the  legislature,  to  whom  at  length  the  matter  was  carried, 
were  that  the  income  of  the  fund  legally  belonged  to  the  old, 
original  Church.  But  the  claimants  were  not  satisfied,  and 
discord  and  strife  continued.  When  I  became  the  temporary 
minister  of  the  Old  Society,  I  looked  into  the  matter  and 
became  satisfied  that,  if  the  law  gave  the  fund  wholly  to  that 
Church,  Christian  equity  did  not;  and  that  there  would 
never  be  peace  and  good-fellowship  among  the  people  of  the 
different  churches  until  the  income  of  the  fund  should  be 
equitably  divided.  I  was  confident  that  what  ought  to  be 
done  could  be  done.  I  was  allowed  to  devise  the  plan  of 
settlement,  and  remained  there  long  enough  to  see  it  accom 
plished." 

Mr.  May  was  nearly  forty-eight  years  old  when  he 
began  his  work  at  Syracuse,  and  his  prorate  extended 
through  more  than  twenty-two  years,  ending  at  the 
close  of  his  seventieth  year.  In  all  this  time  he  was 
very  diligent  in  the  work  of  the  ministry. 

One  striking  proof  of  his  love  of  his  calling  may  be 
seen  in  his  power  to  inspire  young  men  with  a  desire 
to  engage  in  the  work  of  the  ministry.  We  know  of 
more  than  half  a  score  who  became  clergymen  under 


MINISTRY  AT  SYRACUSE.  185 

his  leadership.  Messrs.  Frederic  T.  Gray,  Samuel  May 
William  P.  Tilclen,  Thomas  J.  Mumford,  and  several 
others,  pursued  at  least  a  part  of  their  professorial 
studies  as  his  pupils. 

Looking  back  upon  his  life,  he  expressed  his  regret 
that  he  had  left  undone  some  things  "  immediately  pro- 
motive  of  the  improvement  and  prosperity  of  a  church ;" 
but  although  a  great  deal  of  his  time  and  much  of  his 
-strength  were  given  to  the  causes  of  peace,  temperance, 
freedom,  and  popular  education,  his  professional  duties 
were  remarkably  well  performed.  Scores  of  his  ser 
mons,  suggested  by  the  events  of  the  times,  were  pub 
lished  in  the  daily  journals;  but  the  greater  part  of 
his  preaching  always  related  to  the  religious  life  and 
the  formation  of  Christian  character.  He  was  fond  of 
announcing  courses  of  sermons  which  enabled  him  to 
treat  subjects  somewhat  methodically,  and  also  gave 
an  enforced  direction  to  his  own  studies.  The  nature, 
history,  and  claims  of  the  Bible,  were  -most  grandly 
presented.  He  made  Scriptural  characters  the  sub 
jects  of  many  of  his  most  interesting  and  popular 
discourses.  But  the  life  and  spirit  of  Jesus  were  his 
favorite  topics.  Of  course  there  was  a  practical  pur 
pose  in  all  his  preaching,  and  he  excelled  particularly  in 
the  application  of  Christianity  to  domestic,  social,  and 
business  life.  His  delineations  of  true  fathers  and 
mothers,  wives  and  husbands,  brothers  and  sisters,  sons 
and  daughters,  will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who 
listened  to  them.  His  views  of  the  use  and  abuse  of 
property,  the  conditions  of  real  respectability,  and  the 


186  ///,-/.;   OF  .SM.i/r/7.   ./.    MAY. 

tests  of  a  noble  manhood,  were  very  impressive.  He 
thought  that  lawyers,  doctors,  merchants,  and  journal 
ists  ought  to  be  solemnly  ordained  at  the  beginning  of 
their  professional  careers,  and  his  sketch  of  a  Charge  at 
the  installation  of  an  editor  was  especially  memorable. 
Ilev.  C.  D.  B.  Mills,  one  of  his  most  intelligent  and 
appieciative  parishioners,  says  of  JVIr.  May's  work  in 
the  pulpit:  — 

*'  As  a  preacher  Mr.  May  was  always  perspicuous,  intelli 
gent,  and  impressive.  His  evident  sincerity,  earnest  love  of 
truth,  and  devotion  to  his  kind  invested  all  that  he  said  with 
interest  and  attractiveness.  Ho  was  not  always  equal  with 
himself.  If  his  sermons  ever  seemed  dry  and  uninteresting, 
it  was  when  ho  handled,  which  he  sometimes  did  (though 
quite  rarely),  doctrines  belonging  more  purely  to  the  domain 
of  mere  speculative  theology.  1  think  he  never  felt  at  home 
there,  and  he  grew  more  to  disuse  such  subjects  in  the 
pulpit.  Rarely  what  would  be  called  eloquent,  he  rose  not 
(infrequently  to  heights  of  true  inspiration  and  commanding 
power.  This  was  almost  uniformly  when  treating  of  themes 
of  great  practical  duty.  The  heart  seems  to  have  overshad 
owed  the  head,  making  all  else  beside  it  to  have  appeared 
comparatively  trivial  and  cheap;  but  he  was  certainly  a 
man,  on  the  intellectual  side,  of  greatly  superior  endowment. 
Some  of  his  sermons  were  models  in  thought  and  expression ; 
and  I  have  heard  from  him  discourses  that  in  point  of  qual 
ity,  in  all  ways,  I  think  I  have  never  known  surpassed. 
Those  that  seemed  such  to  me  were  not,  1  believe,  generally 
in  his  view  among  his  best.  I  hope  certainly  that  some  of 
them  may,  at  no  distant  day,  see  the  light.  He  felt  the  call 
to  direct  practical  work  for  his  kind  so  imperative,  that  he 
left  all  to  follow  it,  finding  comparatively  little  time  for 
studies  as  such,  albeit  his  was  a  mind  of  tine  general  cultiva 
tion;  but  had  he  been  able  to  give  himself  with  more  of  ful- 


M  i.  \  /w/ty  A  i'  SYRACV  i 


ness  in  this  direction,  I  doubt  not  ho  would  have  wrought 
result*  in  the  sphere  of  pure  intellectual  inquiry  of  uo  eom- 
mon-j)laee  or  ordinary  diameter. 

"  HIM  benediction  was  always  emphatically  a  blessing,  sueh 
a  beam  of  the  i>ye,  and  such  clear  fervor  of  the  spirit  going 
out  with  the  invocation  of  benefit  :  it  was  well  worth  a 
good  journey  to  see  and  hear  this  alouo  of  a  Sunday,  say 
u  ithiug  of  any  sermon." 

In  the  pastoral  ottico  Mr.  May  was  unsurpassed,  sel 
dom,  if  ever,  equalled.  His  great,  warm  heart  was  always 
ready  to  respond  to  any  call  for  sympathy.  In  times 
of  trial  and  distress,  his  people  found  him  the  best  of 
comforters.  It  was  easier  to  bear  pain  in  his  helpful 
presence,  and  to  believe  in  the  Divine  tenderness  and 
forgiving  love,  while  witnessing  sueh  a  wealth  of  human 
:il]«<-ii()ii  and  forbearanee.  Hundreds  outside  of  his 
own  congregation  sought  for  him  in  seasons  of  distresH 
and  bereavement.  He  was  oilen  called  to  neighboring, 
and  even  distant,  towns  on  sacred  errands  of  consola 
tion.  A  family  of  Episcopalians  were  present  at  the 
funeral  of  a  child  which  was  conducted  by  Mr.  May. 
Losing  one  of  their  own  little  boys  soon  afterwards, 
and  yearning  for  such  faith  and  hope  as  they  felt  that 
only  Mr.  May  could  impart,  they  sent  for  him.  A  few 
months  later  he  went  to  Europe,  and  the  grateful  fa 
ther  sent  him  a  hundred  dollars  to  purchase  memorials 
of  his  travels,  in  remembrance  of  his  kindness  in  tho 
time  of  darkness. 

We  were  at  Syracuse  once  when  an  old  gentleman 
from  Trenton,  who  had  come  to  attend  an  Autumnal 
Convention,  was  drowned  in  the  canal,  and  at  the  name 


188  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

time  a  train  on  the  New  York  Central  Railroad  ran  off 
the  track  a  few  miles  from  Syracuse.  Several  persons 
were  severely  injured,  while  a  lady  from  Toronto,  Can 
ada,  was  instantly  killed.  In  addition  to  his  labors  in 
behalf  of  the  convention,  who  were  the  guests  of  his 
people,  Mr.  May  devoted  much  time  to  efforts  to  find 
the  drowned  man,  who,  before  his  fate  was  ascertained, 
was  supposed  to  have  wandered  off  into  the  country ; 
and  he  would  also  go  to  the  hotel  where  the  sufferers 
from  the  railroad  accident  were  lying,  and  carry  from 
room  to  room  the  blessing  of  his  tender  words  and  lov 
ing  acts.  He  found  that  he  could  not  do  all  that  he 
was  desired  to  do,  because  the  bereaved  families  at  both 
Trenton  and  Toronto  asked  for  his  presence  at  the 
burials;  and  he  had  to  choose  between  the  funeral 
occasions. 

While  Mr.  May  was  an  acceptable  preacher  and  a 
beloved  pastor,  his  own  parish  did  not  absorb  all  his 
interest  and  energy ;  for  he  was  active  in  every  good 
work. 

The  first  year  that  he  lived  in  Syracuse  he  had  occa 
sion  to  pass  and  repass  the  bridges  every  day,  and  he 
was  shocked  by  the  loathsome  condition  of  the  thou 
sands  of  boys  employed  upon  the  Erie  Canal,  their 
terrible  profanity  and  disgusting  obscenity.  In  Decem 
ber,  1845,  Mr.  May  was  invited  to  a  clerical  party  at 
the  house  of  Rev.  Dr.  Adams,  pastor  of  the  First  Pres 
byterian  Church.  He  told  the  ministers  what  he  had 
heard  of  the  wrongs  and  exposure  of  the  canal  boys,  and 
what  he  had  seen  of  their  degradation  ;  and  a  Memorial 


MINISTRY  AT  SYRACUSE.  189 

was  at  on  of  prepared  and  sent  to  the  legislature,  asking 
for  the  passage  of  such  an  Act  as  would  secure  to  the 
canal  boys  protection  of  their  persons,  and  compensa 
tion  for  their  services ;  homes  and  suitable  instruction 
in  the  7  inters  for  that  large  portion  of  them  who  were 
parentltss ;  and  a  Reformatory  for  those  who  should 
become  delinquents.  Public  meetings  were  held,  cor- 
lespondence  was  opened  with  men  of  influence  along 
the  lines  of  the  canals  of  the  State,  and  the  cause  was 
earnestly  advocated  in  the  Senate  and  Assembly  of 
New  York.  The  legislation  upon  the  subject  was  not  • 
satisfactory  to  Mr.  May,  but  it  became  more  difficult  for 
the  public  to  wholly  forget  the  claims  of  an  unfortunate 
class  upon  their  sympathy  and  help. 

He  was  chiefly  instrumental  in  instituting  courses  of 
popular  lectures  in  the  town,  and  became  known  as  an 
enlightened  and  devoted  friend  of  education,  delivering 
many  lectures  on  public  instruction  and  assisting  at 
Teachers'  Institutes  and  Educational  Conventions.  To 
Cornell  University  he  gave  his  large  collection  of  books 
and  pamphlets  relating  to  slavery  and  the  antislavery 
contest  in  this  country.  He  was  known  far  and  wide 
as  an  earnest  friend  of  temperance.  He  was  deeply 
interested  in  the  Asylum  for  the  Feeble-Minded,  the 
hospital,  city  library,  and  reading-room. 

It  was  hard  for  him  to  regard  the  Indians  as  a  hope 
less  race.  He  helped  those  in  his  neighborhood  to  raise 
the  means  to  build  a  school-house ;  procured  a  good 
teacher;  obtained  from  the  Superintendent  of  Public 
Instruction  an  annual  appropriation  for  her  support,  and 


190  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

for  that  of  her  successors,  for  twenty  years.  He  \isited 
the  school  frequently,  and  obtained  money  from  Boston 
to  aid  in  the  support  of  the  Mission  established  by  the 
Methodist  Conference.  He  was  repeatedly  called  upon 
to  settle  the  difficulties  of  their  teacher  and  missionary, 
and  the  Indians  themselves  often  resorted  to  him  for 
all  sorts  of  advice  and  help.  Sometimes  groups  of 
them  would  sit  stolidly  in  his  study  for  hour  after  hour 
Whenever  he  visited  the  Reservation  their  faces  lighted 
up  with  joy  and  welcome.  The  whole  tribe  knew  him. 
A  friend  who  accompanied  him  the  last  time  he  visited 
these  Indians  says  :  "  An  Indian  boy  overtook  us,  and 
ran  nearly  half  a  mile  beside  the  carriage  to  talk  with 
Mr.  May." 

In  1846  he  preached  and  published  his  first  sermon 
on  "  The  Rights  of  Woman."  It  was  republished  in 
this  country  and  in  England,  having  a  larger  circula 
tion  than  any  other  writing  that  he  ever  gave  to  the 
press.  He  never  wavered  in  his  convictions,  and  de 
clared,  near  the  close  of  his  life :  — 

1 '  I  am  fully  persuaded  that  never  will  our  governments 
be  wisely  and  happily  administered  until  we  have  mothers 
as  well  as  fathers  of  the  State." 

In  1847,  the  graduating  class  of  the  Cambridge  Di 
vinity  School  invited  Mr.  May  to  preach  before  them. 
On  the  llth  of  July,  he  delivered  a  sermon  on  "Jesus 
the  Best  Teacher  of  his  Religion."  At  the  close  he 
said :  — 

44  Young  gentlemen,  by  whose  invitation  I  am  here  on  this 
interesting  occasion  :  you  are  about  to  go  forth  as  m busters 


MINISTRY  AT  SYRACUSE. 

of  Christianity,  at  a  day  when  courage,  as  well  as  piety  and 
learning,  will  be  needed  by  you.  May  you  have  all  the  gifts 
and  graces  of  true  followers  of  Christ.  If  you  go  to  your 
work  in  the  simplicity,  the  truthfulness,  the  faith,  the  love 
of  Jesus,  you  will  not  preach  in  vain.  Go,  I  trust  you  will, 
not  to  be  masters  of  ceremonies,  but  to  be  earnest,  hard 
workers  in  the  service  of  God  and  mankind.  Care  not  so 
much  whither  you  go,  as  in  what  spirit  you  go.  There  may 
be  a  choice  in  places,  but  there  is  no  choice  for  you  in  pur 
poses.  Wherever  you  go,  you  should  go  with  the  determi 
nation  to  do  the  work  of  the  Lord,  to  redeem  men  from 
ignorance,  sin,  and  misery.  This  is  the  end  for  which  Christ 
lived  and  died.  This  is  the  end  to  which  you  should  live, 
and  die,  if  fidelity  to  your  duty  demands  the  sacrifice." 


In  1854,  Mr.  May  had  a  discussion  of  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity  with  Rev.  Luther  Lee,  a  distinguished  Wes 
leyan  minister.  It  began  on  Feb.  28,  1854,  and  ended 
on  March  23.  Eleven  evenings  were  devoted  to  it,  and 
the  City  Hall  was  filled  with  "  an  immense  audience, 
hundreds  being  unable  to  get  in."  The  speeches  were 
carefully  reported,  and  afterwards  published  together. 
There  was  much  excitement,  but  the  controversialists 
preserved  their  self-control,  and  there  was  no  breaking 
off  of  their  friendly  relations. 

Mr.  Lee  tried  to  identify  Mr.  May's  opinions  with 
those  of  Theodore  Parker,  which  were  the  objects  of 
especial  dread  on  the  part  of  most  of  the  religious  peo 
ple  of  Syracuse.  Mr.  Parker  and  Mr.  May  were  very 
intimate  friends,  and  loved  each  other  dearly.  Early 
in  their  acquaintance,  Mr.  May  had  warned  Mr.  Parker 
most  faithfully  against  his  tendency  to  indulge  in  harsh 


192  HFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

and  bitter  personalities ;  but  this  candor  was  received 
as  kindly  as  it  was  given.  Mr.  May  sold  large  numbers 
of  Mr.  Parker's  books,  and  procured  many  invitations 
for  him  to  lecture  in  Central  New  York.  Mr.  Parker 
often  preached  in  Mr.  May's  church.  This  fact  Mr. 
Lee  sought  to  turn  to  controversial  account,  but  Mr. 
May  replied  :  — 

"Mr.  Lee  has  endeavored  to  associate  me  in  your  minds 
with  Theodore  Parker.  Of  this  I  do  not  complain,  though 
it  has  nothing  to  do  with  our  argument.  But  why  should 
Mr.  Lee,  and  my  Orthodox  neighbors  generally,  take  it  for 
granted  that  my  theological  opinions  are  coincident  with  Mr. 
Parker's,  because  I  have  invited  him  to  preach  in  my  pulpit 
and  have  myself  preached  in  his?  I  have  had  the  same 
friendly  intercourse  with  Swedenborgian,  Methodist,  Bap 
tist,  and  Presbyterian  (or  Orthodox  Congregationalist)  min 
isters.  They  have  preached  in  my  pulpit,  and  I  in  theirs; 
yet  I  never  heard  the  intimation  that  Mr.  May  had  become, 
or  was  becoming,  'evangelical,'  when  any  of  these  last- 
named  exchanges  took  place. 

"  The  ground  of  my  great  regard  for  Mr.  Parker  person 
ally,  and  of  my  ministerial  intercourse  with  him  and  with  some 
preachers  of  the  different  Orthodox  sects,  has  not  been  an 
agreement  in  our  system  of  theological  belief  so,  much  as  a  mu 
tual  recognition  of  our  right  to  differ  in  our  interpretation  of 
the  Bible  ;  and,  still  more,  a  similar  appreciation  of  the  great 
practical  purposes  of  the  gospel,  and  of  the  demands  of  our 
Lord  that  are  upon  us  all  to  co-operate  with  him,  and  with 
one  another,  in  the  redemption  of  the  world  from  ignorance, 
sin,  and  misery.  I  respect  Theodore  Parker  because  he  is  a 
man  of  great  intellect  and  of  wonderful  acquisitions.  I  love 
him  because  he  consecrates  so  much  of  his  knowledge,  his 
genius,  and  his  eloquence  to  the  cause  of  suffering,  outraged 
humanity.  I  honor  him  because  he  is  no  respecter  of  per- 


MINISTRY  AT  SYRACUSE.  193 

sons,  doth  not  regard  the  rich  more  than  the  poor.  As 
Jesus,  our  pattern  in  all  things,  did,'  so  does  he  assail,  fre 
quently  and  fearlessly,  '  the  high  and  lifted  up '  in  Church 
and  State,  because  the  giant  sin  of  our  time  and  nation  is 
entrenched  behind  their  example  and  influence.  He  is  hated, 
sir,  in  Boston,  as  our  Lord  was  in  Jerusalem,  not  because  of 
his  heterodoxy  in  theology,  I  believe,  so  much  as  because  of 
his  exposure  of  the  vices  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  the 
rulers  of  the  people. 

u  I  have  been  shocked  at  some  of  Mr.  Parker's  opinions, 
"and  sometimes  offended  at  his  way  of  stating  truths  ;  but 
when  I  see  the  tremendous  blows  he  strikes  at  the  founda 
tion  vices  of  society,  I  respect  and  love  him,  his  opinions  on 
some  points  notwithstanding.  And  his  opinions,  let  me  add, 
are  less  shocking,  less  derogatory  to  God,  less  discouraging 
to  man,  than  the  doctrines  which  are  given  us  in  the  Presby 
terian  Confession  of  Faith,  and  the  Thirty-Nine  Articles  and 
Creeds  of  the  Episcopal  Church  ;  doctrines  which,  if  they 
should  be  intelligently  read  to  the  people,  and  enforced  indi 
vidually  upon  their  reception,  as  the  condition  of  continued 
membership,  would  empty  those  churches  apace." 

At  the  close  of  the  discussion  Mr.  May  said :  — 

"  When  I  first  heard  of  you,  Brotiier  Lee,  it  was  as  a  man 
who  had  generously  espoused  the  cause  of  the  wretched 
slaves  in  our  country.  I  honored  you  for  your  fidelity  to 
the  right.  Since  you  came  to  this  city,  I  have  heard  of  your 
kindnesses  to  the  outcasts,  the  fugitives  from  our  Ameri 
can  despotism;  how  you  have  sheltered  them  under  your 
roof,  fed  them  at  your  table,  and  helped  them  on  their  way. 
My  soul  has  been  drawn  towards  you  as  a  good  son  of  God. 

' '  I  cared  not  much  to  know  what  your  theological  opin 
ions  might  be,  to  enable  me  to  form  an  estimate  of  your 
Christian  character.  And  now  that  I  have  found,  in  the 
course  of  this  discussion,  what  your  opinions  are  ;  although 
they  appear  to  me  very  unscriptural,  very  irrational,  very 
9  H 


194  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

inconsistent  with  themselves  and  self-contradictory,  still  1 
will  not  withdraw  my  confidence  from  you  as  a  man  and  a 
Christian  so  long  as  I  see  that  you  abound  in  love  and  good 
works.  And  here,  Brother  Lee,  after  all  our  disputing,  is  my 
right  hand  of  fellowship,  if  you  are  willing  to  receive  it." 

Mr.  Lee  said  :  — 

"  I  take  your  hand,  and  fellowship  you  as  a  man  and  a 
philanthropist  ;  but  I  have  no  fellowship  with  your  the 
ology." 

Mr.  May  replied  :  — 

"  Nor  I  with  yours  !  I  suppose  your  theology  is  just  as 
unlike  to  mine  as  mine  is  to  yours." 

Then  (turning  to  the  audience)  he  said :  — 

"  I  thank  you,  fellow-citizens,  for  your  long-continued  and 
patient  hearing  of  what  we  have  had  to  say.  I  have  only  to 
beg  you  to  read  what  we  have  said,  and  consider  it  well, 
that  you  may  understand  ;  compare  our  doctrines  and  argu 
ments  with  each  other  as  impartially  as  you  may  be  able, 
and  both  with  the  teachings  of  the  Bible,  and  judge  for 
yourselves  which  of  the  two  is  nearer  the  right." 

For  several  years  free  meetings,  for  the  consideration 
of  religious  and  philanthropic  subjects,  known  as  "  The 
Market  Hall  Discussions,"  were  held  on  Sunday  after 
noons  in  Syracuse,  and  very  largely  attended  by  mem 
bers  of  all  the  Protestant  denominations  as  well  as  the 
independents  and  "unbelievers"  of  the  vicinity.  All 
questions  were  open  questions;  and,  sooner  or  later, 
about  every  thing  was  debated  with  the  utmost  free 
dom.  Mr.  May  was  the  only  clergyman  who  attended 
regularly,  and  he  bore  himself  so  nobly  that  the  ex- 


MINISTRY  AT  SYRACUSE.  195 

tremest  free-thinkers  were  ready  to  admit  that  there 
was  one  minister  who  had  no  priestcraft  in  him.  His 
presence  secured  the  order  and  dignity  of  these  remark 
able  gatherings.  Of  course,  absurd  things  were  some 
times  uttered;  but  nobody,  even  in  the  heat  of  debate, 
became  so  forgetful  of  the  claims  of  courtesy  as  to  in 
dulge  in  wrangling.  It  was  a  school  of  politeness  and 
of  reciprocal  regard  for  honest  convictions,  as  well  as 
an  assembly  for  free  discussion. 

Agreeably  to  his  long  cherished  purpose,  he  tendered 
his  resignation  as  pastor  of  the  Church  of  the  Messiah 
upon  the  completion  of  his  seventieth  year,  and  deliv 
ered  " A  Brief  Account  of  his  Ministry"  on  the  15th 
of  September,  1867.  His  people  were  hardly  reconciled 
to  their  loss,  some  of  them  going  so  far  as  to  say: 
"  We  would  rather  have  Mr.  May  sit  in  the  pulpit,  and 
only  smile  upon  us,  than  to  hear  the  most  eloquent  ser 
mons  from  any  other  preacher."  But  they  soon  found 
that  they  had  love  enough  to  satisfy  two  ministers,  and 
Mr.  Calthrop's  coming  was  an  occasion  of  pleasure  to 
themselves  and  to  their  old  pastor. 

After  he  was  released  from  the  care  of  the  parish, 
Mr.  May  became  a  missionary  of  the  American  Unita 
rian  Association  throughout  Central  New  York,  and 
many  listened  with  respect  to  what  they  considered 
serious  theological  error  because  of  their  faith  in  the 
practical  Christianity  of  its  well-known  representative. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

1859,  EUROPE 

THE  MISSIONARY  TO  INDIA.  —  TREATMENT  OP  SAILORS.  —  LON 
DON  DIRT  AND  FOGS.  —  THE  HOUSES  OF  PARLIAMENT  — 
SCENES  AT  ROME.  —  WAYSIDE  CHAPELS  AND  MONAS 
TERIES.  —  VIENNA.  —  HEATHENISH  SCULPTURES.  —  ROYAL 
STABLES. — JEWS'  QUARTER  AT  PRAGUE.  —  OUT-DOOR 
WORK  OF  WOMEN  ON  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  ELBE.  —  BRIDAL 
PROCESSION  AT  DRESDEN.  —  CIGAR  MAKERS. —  CROWN 
JEWELS.  —  GRAVE  OF  GODDARD  NEAR  ZURICH.  —  DESCENT 
OF  RHIGI.  —  PUBLICATION  OF  COLERIDGE'S  "HYMN  BE 
FORE  SUNRISE  IN  VALE  OF  CHAMOUNI."  —  MR.  MAY  SIT 
TING  IN  JOHN  CALVIN'S  CHAIR. — ENGLISH  FRIENDS. — 
LETTER  TO  THEODORE  PARKER. — THIRD  CLASS  CAR  IN 
SCOTLAND.— FELLOW  TRAVELLERS  IN  EUROPE. —  Miss 
HOAR'S  LETTER.  —  HEARS  OF  JOHN  BROWN  AT  HARPER'S 
FERRY. 

TN  the  summer  of  1858,  Mr.  May  became  so  worn 
•*•  out  with  his  labors  and  cares  that  his  friends  saw 
the  need  of  his  having  a  completer  rest  than  could  be 
obtained  in  America;  and  it  was  soon  proposed  that 
he  should  go  to  Europe.  He  sailed  in  December,  on 
the  steamer  "Arabia,"  and  arrived  in  London,  Jan. 
12,  1859. 

After  a  few  days  he  went  to  Paris,  stopping  but  a 
short  time ;  and  then  directly  to  Naples,  by  steamer  from 
Marseilles  by  the  coast  route,  touching  at  Genoa,  Leg 
horn,  and  Civita  Vecchia.  He  spent  a  month  in  and 


1859,  EUROPE.  197 

about  Naples,  and  went  to  Rome  by  vettura  over  the 
Pontine  Marshes,  arriving  in  Rome  on  the  last  day  but 
one  of  the  Carnival.  On  the  last  day  he  rode  in  the  line 
of  carriages  through  the  Corso,  in  domino,  throwing  con 
fetti,  and  enjoying  the  fun  highly.  After  a  considerable 
stay  in  Rome,  he  went  to  Florence,  Venice,  Vienna, 
Prague,  Dresden,  Leipsic,  Nuremberg,  Augsburg,  and 
Munich.  From  Munich  he  went  into  Switzerland  by 
jthe  Lake  of  Constance.  He  visited  all  the  principal 
places  of  resort  in  Switzerland  in  the  course  of  three 
weeks,  and  went  to  Baden-Baden,  stopping  at  Stras 
bourg.  He  enjoyed  Heidelberg,  and  descended  the 
Rhine  to  Cologne.  From  there  he  went  to  Amster 
dam,  Rotterdam,  the  Hague,  and  Antwerp,  and  after 
wards  to  Brussels  and  Paris.  From  the  latter  city 
he  went  to  England,  and  remained  until  the  last  of 
October,  when  he  sailed  for  Boston  in  the  steamer 
"  America. " 

We  have  gleaned  from  his  numerous  letters  such 
passages  as  seem  to  us  most  interesting  and  charac 
teristic. 

"  OCEAN  STEAMER,  ARABIA, 
January  7,  1859. 

"A  gentleman  now  sitting  opposite  to  me,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Baume,  of  the  Methodist  Church,  late  of  Chicago,  is  bound 
to  Calcutta,  with  Ids  young  wife  and  beautiful  infant  boy, 
there  to  devote  himself  to  the  work  of  a  missionary  of  the 
gospel  in  the  city  and  neighborhood  of  Lucknow.  My  heart 
has  been  much  drawn  out  towards  this  soldier  of  the  Cross, 
and  I  have  been  most  happy  to  give  him  a  letter  to  a  friend 
of  mine  in  that  country,  which  will  be  of  service  to  him." 


198  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

"  January  8. 

* '  I  have  had  much  conversation  "with  four  intelligent 
American  captains,  respecting  the  deterioration  of  the  char 
acter  and  the  degraded  condition  of  sailors.  The  slaves  of 
our  country  hardly  make  louder  demands  upon  our  sym 
pathy,  or  call  more  earnestly  for  deliverance,  than  do  the 
sailors.  I  have  read  to  these  gentlemen  the  article  in  the  last 
'  Atlantic  Monthly,'  entitled  '  The  Men  of  the  Sea.'  They 
unitedly  pronounced  it  true,  wise,  excellent." 

"PARIS,  January  20. 

"  Of  course,  I  passed  though  many  streets  of  London,  saw 
many  of  the  great  public  edifices,  and  several  lofty  columns 
and  statues  of  distinguished  men;  but,  at  first,  I  could  take 
notice  of  nothing  so  much  as  of  the  dirtiness  of  every  thing: 
houses,  stores,  churches,  palaces,  statues,  all  looked  be 
grimed,  smutched.  Oh  !  if  the  dense  black  smoke  of  the 
coal  which  everybody  burns  in  London  would  but  deposit 
itself  in  even,  regular  layers,  one  might  suppose  that  the 
English  people  were  particularly  fond  of  black  marble  and 
ebony.  But,  as  it  is,  the  buildings,  columns,  and  statues  in 
London  do  not  look  black  so  much  as  very,  very  dirty. 
Even  the  statue  of  their  justly  admired  Queen,  in  the  Royal 
Exchange,  looks  as  badly  as  the  person  of  a  coal-heaver. 
I  accused  several  English  ladies  and  gentlemen,  whom  I 
chanced  to  meet,  with  a  great  want  of  loyalty,  that  they  did 
not  keep  a  maid  or  man  there  to  wash  the  face  of  her 
Majesty.  But,  notwithstanding  the  first  impression  of  Lon 
don  was  so  disagreeable,  I  soon  found  much  to  admire. 
Fortunately  for  me,  the  weather  during  my  stay  in  the  great 
city  was  unusually  pleasant  for  the  season.  I  saw  the  sun 
more  or  less,  less  rather  than  more,  every  day  excepting 
one.  But  he  always  looked  more  like  the  Queen  of  Night 
than  the  King  of  Day. 

"  It  was  so  cold  and  damp  in  Westminster  Abbey,  that  I 
took  but  a  hasty  glance  at  the  wonderful  structure,  and  afe~w 


1859,  EUROPE.  199 

of  the  countless  monuments  that  line  its  walls.  The  Houses 
of  Parliament  I  surveyed  more  deliberately.  My  friend,  Mr. 
George  Thompson,  formerly  a  member  of  the  House  of  Com 
mons,  accompanied  me,  and  made  my  visit  much  more 
interesting  than  it  would  otherwise  have  been.  He  pointed 
out  the  seats  of  the  distinguished  members,  and  explained  to 
me  the  etiquette  of  the  two  bodies.  But  nothing  in  London 
interested  me  quite  so  much  as  the  immense  Library  in  the 
British  Museum." 

"ROME,  April  26, 1859. 

1 '  We  have  been  here  at  the  very  time  of  the  year  when 
most  is  to  be  seen  of  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church;  and  we  have  improved  our  opportunities. 
I  have  witnessed  the  most  pompous  and  -gorgeous  parades. 
No  description  could  give  you  an  accurate  idea  of  them. 
On  Ash  Wednesday  I  succeeded  in  getting  into  the  Sistine 
Chapel;  and  there,  after  standing  nearly  two  hours,  I  saw 
eighteen  or  twenty  cardinals,  splendidly  dressed,  come  in 
through  a  file  of  soldiers,  each  one  of  them  followed  by  two 
attendants  bearing  his  long  purple  silk  tram,  while  he  knelt 
for  a  minute  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,  and  then  accompanied 
him  to  his  seat  and  adjusted  his  robes  for  him,  and  sat  down 
at  his  feet.  When  all  the  cardinals  had  thus  paraded  into 
their  places,  his  Holiness,  the  Pope,  came  hi  with  a  large 
escort  of  military  men  and  ecclesiastics  of  various  orders.  He 
had  six  attendants  to  hold  his  train,  and  take  off  and  put  on 
his  mitre,  and  adjust  his  robes  when  he  knelt  in  prayer,  and 
when  he  rose  up,  and  when  he  sat  down.  So  soon  as  he  got 
settled  on  his  throne,  the  officiating  priests  read  some  por 
tions,  and  the  choir  chanted  other  portions,  of  the  service  for 
the  day.  When  that  was  over,  the  cardinals  arose,  each  one 
in  his  order;  and  having  been  divested  by  their  servants 
of  one  splendid  robe,  and  clothed  again  with  another,  they 
walked  to  the  feet  of  the  Pope,  and,  humbly  kneeling  there, 
his  Holiness  put  upon  their  heads  a  sprinkling  of  ashes,  made 


200  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

upon  it  the  sign  of  a  cross,  and  gave  them  his  blessing.  Then 
they  arose,  kissed  reverently  his  hand,  and  went  back  to 
their  seats.  When  all  the  cardinals  had  gone  through  this 
ceremony,  countless  bishops,  monsignori,  and  other  ecclesi 
astics,  and  then  the  ministers  and  other  diplomatic  servants 
of  foreign  courts  (who  were  Roman  Catholics),  and  after 
them  numerous  generals  and  other  military  men  went  up,  in 
like  manner,  and  kneeled  to  the  Pope  and  received  the  ashes 
upon  their  heads,  with  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  the  benedic 
tion  of  his  Holiness,  and  then  bowed  themselves  still  lower 
and  kissed  his  foot.  This  I  actually  saw  more  than  a 
hundred  men  do. 

"  The  following  Friday  we  were  summoned,  by  the 
trumpet  of  common  report,  to  be  at  St.  Peter's  by  twelve 
o'clock,  to  witness,  the  Pope  at  his  prayers.  We  were  there, 
of  course.  And  we  found  there  a  large  company  of  soldiers, 
keeping  an  open  passage-way  from  the  front  door  of  the 
church  to  one  of  the  chapels  on  the  right  side,  where  it 
seemed  his  Holiness  had  appointed  to  pray.  At  the  appointed 
hour  the  huge  doors  of  St.  Peter's  were  thrown  open,  and  in 
came  a  military  guard,  and  after  them  a  retinue  of  ecclesi 
astics,  and  then  the  Pope,  followed  by  a  long  train  of  car 
dinals  and  bishops.  Arrived  at  the  cushion  placed  for  his 
accommodation  at  the  door  of  the  chapel,  one  of  his  six 
special  attendants  took  off  his  mitre,  another  received  it  in 
charge.  Three  or  four  others  adjusted  his  robes,  and  his 
Holiness  knelt.  At  the  same  moment  cardinals,  bishops,  the 
military  guard,  and  all  true  Catholics  in  the  church,  fell  upon 
their  knees,  and  there  was  silence  for  ten  minutes.  It  was  an 
imposing  spectacle.  But  I  could  not  see  in  it  any  thing  better 
than  an  imjosing  spectacle. 

"  At  thf  expiration  of  ten  minutes  the  Pope  arose  from 
his  knees.  The  attendant  who  had  taken  charge  of  his  mitre 
handed  it  back  to  the  one  by  whom  it  was  given  to  him,  and 
he  replaced  it  upon  the  head  of  his  Holiness.  The  other 
attendants  then  took  up  his  train,  and  the  Pope,  preceded 


1359,   EUROPE.  201 

and  followed  as  before,  walked  reverently  to  the  bronze 
statue  of  St.  Peter  (once  a  statue  of  the  heathen  god,  Ju 
piter),  and  impressed  a  kiss  upon  the  great  toe  of  its  right 
foot,  which,  by  the  bye,  had  just  been  most  assiduously 
wiped  by  one  of  the  attendants.  He  then  went  on  to  a 
cushion  in  front  of  the  High  Altar;  and  his  mitre  having 
been  taken  off  as  before,  and  his  robes  adjusted  by  those 
appointed  for  that  pious  office,  he  and  all  his  retinue  knelt 
again;  and  again  there  was  a  silence  for  the  space  of  ten  or 
fifteen  minutes.  At  the  conclusion  of  this  ceremony  he  arose, 
ids  mitre  was  put  upon  his  head,  his  train  was  taken  up  by 
the  officials  of  his  person,  and  he  went  back  to  his  palace  as 
he  had  come  from  it.  Comment  is  unnecessary.  Let  me 
only  say,  the  scene  reminded  me  of  those  in  our  Saviour's 
day  who  loved  to  pray  at  the  corner  of  the  street  and  mar 
ket-places,  to  be  seen  of  men. 

"  The  following  Friday  I  witnessed  a  ceremony  of  a  dif 
ferent  sort.  It  was  enacted  in  one  of  the  churches  in  the 
centre  of  the  city.  His  Holiness  came  thither  in  great  pomp, 
in  a  splendid  coach  drawn  by  six  black  horses,  with  a 
postilion,  dressed  in  red  satin,  on  one  of  the  leaders,  and  the 
others  driven  by  a  coachman  in  similar  costume,  and  three 
footmen,  likewise  dressed,  riding  behind.  The  Pope's  car 
riage  was  followed  by  ten  or  twelve  cardinals,  whose  equipage 
and  liveried  servants  were  almost  as  splendid ;  and  they  by 
other  high  officials  in  Church  and  State,  and  generals  of  the 
French  and  Italian  armies;  the  whole  escorted  by  the  Pope's 
Guard  of  Nobles,  and  a  large  body  of  cavalry,  elegantly 
mounted.  Arrived  at  the  church,  his  Holiness  was  taken  in 
a  gorgeous  chair  upon  a  platform  covered  with  the  richest 
velvet,  upon  the  shoulders  of  twelve  men,  elegantly  dressed, 
under  a  silken  canopy  borne  by  eight  other  gentlemen,  and 
on  either  side  one  bearing  on  a  long  handle  an  immense  fan 
of  white  feathers.  Thus  supported,  and  followed  by  his  car 
dinals  and  bishops  on  foot,  the  Pope  was  carried  up  and 
down  the  aisles  of  the  church,  and  then  placed  upon  a  throne, 
9* 


202  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

near  the  High  Altar.  Here  he  attended  Mass.  After  that, 
fifteen  or  twenty  girls,  eighteen  or  twenty  years  of  age, 
dressed  alike  in  virgin  white,  were  conducted  to  his  feet. 
There,  upon  their  knees,  they  received  his  benediction,  and 
each  a  present  of  money,  called  a  dowry,  or  marriage  portion. 
The  Pope  was  then  taken  upon  the  shoulders  of  men,  in  the 
same  manner  as  before,  carried  up  and  down  the  church 
again;  and  so  being  conducted  to  his  carriage,  he  returned  to 
his  palace,  with  the  same  escort  and  retinue  with  which  he 
had  come  to  the  church.  Of  course,  all  that  I  have  attempted 
to  describe  was  a  splendid  pageant;  but  I  could  not  see  any 
thing  Christian  in  it. 

"  The  parade  on  Palm  Sunday  in  St.  Peter's  Church  was 
much  more  showy;  but  I  have  no  time  now  to  describe  it. 

"On  Holy  Thursday,  tb*'  day  before  Good  Friday,  were 
played  what  I  must  be  allowed  to  call  the  Farce  of  Humility 
and  the  Farce  of  Hospitality:  the  former  in  the  Chapel  of  St. 
Peter's,  on  the  right  of  the  High  Altar;  and  the  latter  in  the 
hall  over  the  vestibule  of  the  church.  All  possible  accommo 
dations  in  the  way  of  seats  had  been  prepared,  so  as  to  enable 
as  many  as  possible  to  see  what  great  humility  the  Pope  and 
cardinals  could  practise. 

"  Arranged  upon  a  high  bench,  so  as  to  be  very  conspicu 
ous,  were  thirteen  men,  selected  for  the  purpose,  on  what 
principle  I  know  not.  They  were  all  dressed  alike,  in  long 
white  woollen  gowns,  and  whiter  capes  and  whiter  kid  boots. 
They  all  looked  more  like  women  than  men.  In  due  time, 
the  Pope,  in  a  simple  dress,  accompanied  by  some  of  his  car 
dinals  and  bishops,  without  parade,  came  in  through  the  side 
aisle.  A  short  service  was  read;  after  which  a  white  apron 
was  tied  around  his  Holiness,  and  he  proceeded  to  wash  the 
feet  of  the  men  who  were  there,  I  suppose,  representing  the 
Apostles.  But  it  was  only  a  shallow  ceremony.  The  feet  of 
the  men  were  already  very  clean,  so  they  did  not  need  wash 
ing.  Nevertheless,  I  will  tell  you  how  it  was  done.  A  priest 
had  gone  before,  and  taken  off  the  shoe,  or  rather  boot,  on 


1859,  EUROPE.  203 

the  right  foot  of  each  of  the  quasi  Apostles,  and  slipped  it 
down  to  the  heel,  so  that  it  would  be  readily  shuffled  off; 
then  came  a  cardinal  or  bishop,  with  a  pile  of  small  napkins; 
next  the  Pope,  dressed  more  simply  than  I  had  ever  seen  him, 
and  with  his  white  apron  on;  just  behind  and  below  him, 
another  bishop  or  priest  holding  a  golden  basin;  and  next,  a 
priest  with  a  large  golden  pitcher.  This  last  poured  a  little 
water  upon  the  foot  that  was  extended  to  be  washed,  while  the 
one  with  the  basin  held  it  to  catch  the  drops.  Immediately 
the  Pope  clapped  a  napkin,  received  from  his  attendant,  upon 
tbe  slightly  wet  foot,  wiped  it  quickly,  impressed  a  kiss  upon 
it,  gave  to  its  owner  a  bouquet  and  a  golden  medal  or  coin, 
and  then  passed  to  the  next,  and  so  on  until  all  had  received 
the  ablution,  and,  I  should  have  added,  each  kissed  the  hand 
that  had  wiped  the  foot. 

"  This  farce  I  saw  with  my  own  eyes,  until  seven  of  the 
thirteen  had  been  so  washed.  And  then  I  joined  most  of 
those  around  me,  who  hastened  from  that,  to  get  places  where 
they  might  also  see  the  other  farce,  the  feeding  of  the  poor. 
But  I  missed  my  way,  or  was  less  nimble  than  others,  so  that- 
I  did  not  get  within  sight  of  the  table.  It  was  spread,  as  I 
have  stated,  in  the  hall,  over  the  vestibule  of  St.  Peter's.  It 
was  laden  with  the  good  things  for  the  palate,  both  solid  and 
liquid.  And,  as  I  was  told  by  many  who  saw  the  farce,  the 
same  men.  whose  feet  had  been  washed  were  conducted 
thither,  seated  at  the  table,  and  served  by  the  Pope  and 
cardinals.  But,  as  I  did  not  see  it,  I  will  not  attempt  a 
description. 

"  Indeed,  after  all  I  have  seen  at  St.  Peter's,  and  of  the 
condition  of  Rome,  I  have  come  to  feel  that  St.  Peter's  is 
nothing  more  than  a  splendid  theatre,  and  the  Pope,  car 
dinals,  bishops,  and  priests  are  only  the  dramatis  persona; 
and  that  religious  plays  are  acted  by  them  for  the  amuse 
ment  of  many,  and,  perhaps,  the  edification  of  some  of  the 
people." 


204  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


,  May  1,  1859. 

"All  along  these  roads  one  is  often  reminded  that  he  is  in 
a  Roman  Catholic  country,  by  the  little  chapels,  and  pictures 
and  images  and  crosses,  that  recur  at  least  once  in  every 
mile.  But  the  frequency  of  these  things  lessens  the  effect 
they  are  intended  to  produce.  The  people  seemed  to  pay 
them  no  more  respect  than  they  pay  the  guide-boards  or 
mile-stones. 

"  Then,  frequently  upon  the  highest  hills,  steep,  barren, 
solitary,  almost  inaccessible,  are  to  be  seen  the  monasteries 
in  which  the  several  orders  of  monks  have  secluded  them 
selves,  there  to  lead  lives  utterly  useless  to  their  fellow-men, 
and  therefore  unacceptable  to  God,  who  has  commanded  ua 
to  evince  our  love  of  him,  whom  we  cannot  directly  benefit, 
by  doing  what  we  may  to  promote  the  happiness  and  highest 
welfare  of  our  brethren  of  the  human  family.'' 

"PRAGUE,  May  26,  1859. 

"  When  I  was  a  little  boy,  I  used  to  listen  with  great 
admiration  to  my  sister's  playing  of  "  The  Battle  of  Prague," 
then  a  very  famous  and  favorite  piece  of  music  ;  and  here  I 
am  at  the  place  which  was  the  scene  of  the  terrible  conflict 
described  in  that  music.  When  I  was  old  enough  to  study 
the  elements  of  astronomy,  I  learnt  the  name  of  Tycho 
Brahe,  and  committed  to  memory  some  account  of  his  con 
tributions  to  that  noble  science  ;  and  here  I  am  in  sight  of 
the  observatory  where  he  studied  the  heavens.  When  I 
opened  the  volumes  of  ecclesiastical  history,  I  was  soon 
brought  to  know  something  of  John  Huss,  the  great  Protestant 
Reformer;  and  here  I  am  close  by  the  convent  where  he  first 
came  to  the  discovery  of  other  and  higher  truths  than  the 
Church  was  pleased  to  communicate  to  the  people,  and  which 
he  converted  into  a  school  of  freer  and,  better  theological 
doctrine.  I  shall  soon  go  out  to  explore  the  city,  and  visit 
the  spots  so  sacred.  But  before  I  go,  let  me  tell  you  a  little 
about  Vienna. 


1859,  EUROPE.  205 

"  We  went  to  one  of  the  public  gardens  of  Vienna,  in  the 
centre  of  which  there  is  a  building  like  the  Temple  of  Theseus 
at  Athens,  erected  to  hold  an  immense  piece  of  statuary  by 
Canova,  "  Theseus  killing  a  Centaur."  I  have  no  doubt  it 
is  an  admirable  piece  of  work;  but  it  is  a  disgusting  subject, 
as  are  too  many  of  the  sculptures  that  I  saw  in  the  cities  of 
Italy,  representations  of  deeds  of  violence  or  revenge.  It 
may  be  well  enough  to  save  such  sculptures  that  may  be 
found  among  ancient  ruins;  but  for  modern  Christian  artists 
to  spend  their  time  upon  the  barbarous  fables  of  heathen 
mythology  seems  to  me  a  sad  misuse  of  their  talents. 

"  We  went  to  see  the  Royal  stables.  They  are  three 
stories  high,  built  around  a  rectangular  court,  four  hundred 
feet  long  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  wide,  and  look  very  much 
like  a  palace.  The  lower  story,  on  three  sides,  is  devoted  to 
horses;  on  the  fourth  side  to  a  riding-school.  There  were 
stalls  for  six  hundred  horses.  More  than  five  hundred  of 
these  were  occupied.  The  tenants  of  the  others,  we  were 
told,  had  been  taken  to  the  war.  Never  before  had  I  seen 
so  many  beautiful  horses.  They  were  of  every  choice  variety 
that  is  known,  and  they  looked  as  much  cared  for  as  if  they 
were  members  of  the  Emperor's  household.  Some  young 
friends  of  mine,  that  I  could  name,  would  have  been  espe 
cially  delighted,  and  might  have  been  led  to  wish  that  they 
had  been  born  sons  of  an  emperor.  No  such  wish  was 
awakened  in  my  bosom.  I  came  away  saying  with  more 
emphasis  than  ever :  '  What  a  pity,  what  a  wrong,  that  so 
much  wealth  and  power  should  be  allowed  to  accumulate,  and 
to  be  retained  by  inheritance  in  the  hands  of  one  person.  No 
one  man  was  ever,  or  will  ever  be,  wise  and  good  enough  to 
use  so  much  wealth  and  power  judiciously,  beneficially  to 
others  or  happily  for  himself. '  ' 

"  DRESDEN,  May  28,  1859. 

"  At  Prague  we  crossed  the  river  in  a  ferry-boat,  several 
hundred  feet  below  the  bridge,  and  landed  in  the  Jews'  quar- 


206  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

ter  of  the  city.  Descendants  of  Abraham  have  lived  on  that 
spot,  it  is  said,  longer  than  in  any  other  part  of  Europe. 
.  "  We  went  first  to  their  old  burial-ground.  It  vas  literally 
full  of  grave-stones  and  monuments,  many  of  tl  em  several 
hundred  years  old.  One  is  said  to  date  from  A.D.  606.  We 
were  conducted  through  the  very  narrow,  winding  path,  to 
the  graves  of  Rabbi  Abiguor  Karo  and  Rabbi  Lowi,  said  to 
have  been  very  learned  and  pious  men:  one,  the  intimate 
friend  of  Tycho  Brahe;  the  other,  the  founder  of  two  hospi 
tals.  So  Miss  E.  H.  and  I  each  put  a  stone  upon  their  monu 
ments,  that  being  with  the  Jews  an  expression  of  respect 
for  the  dead,  and  came  away. 

"  Our  sail  down  the  Elbe  was  very  agreeable.  The  country 
through  which  we  passed,  Saxon  Switzerland,  was  all  that 
its  name  led  us  to  expect.  Sometimes  the  mountains  over 
hung  the  river;  at  other  times  they  were  sufficiently  far  from 
it  to  give  a  margin  of  highly  cultivated  land.  In  the  fields 
there  were  more  women  than  men  at  work;  and  even  at  the 
coal-yards,  along  the  river,  we  saw  them,  in  great  numbers, 
doing  their  share  of  lifting  and  shovelling.  I  cannot  be  recon 
ciled  to  this  use  of  women.  It  is  too  severe  for  their  physical 
constitutions,  and  must  tend,  it  seems  to  me,  to  depress  their 
spiritual  nature,  and  to  deaden  their  moral  and  domestic 
sensibilities." 

"  DRESDEN,  June  2,  1859. 

"  We  found  the  city  given  up  to  preparations  for  the  recep 
tion  of  Prince  George,  a  son  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  with 
his  bride,  Maria  Anna  of  Portugal.  I  perched  myself  upon 
the  seventh  round  of  a  ladder  that  was  placed  against  the 
front  of  our  hotel,  and  from  my  elevated  but  uncomfortable 
seat  saw  the  whole.  The  procession  must  have  been  a  mile 
in  length,  and  was  partly  military,  partly  civic.  Companies 
of  infantry  and  cavalry  preceded  and  followed  the  carriages 
containing  the  bridal  party.  And  then  came,  with  bands  of 


1859,   EUROPE.  207 

music  at  proper  intervals,  companies  of  all  the  different 
tradesmen  and  mechanics,  of  which  the  most  conspicuous  (I 
am  sorry  to  say  it)  were  cigar-makers,  some  of  whom  were 
in  a  long,  covered  wagon,  busily  engaged  in  making  the 
noisome,  noxious  things,  much  to  the  amusement  of  all 
beholders,  excepting  the  few  who,  like  myself,  utterly  disap 
prove  of  the  use  of  tobacco.  But  I  shall  not  be  able  to  stay 
long  enough  in  Europe  to  persuade  the  people,  certainly  not 
the  Germans,  to  abandon  the  use  of  this  nasty  weed. 

"  One  forenoon  we  spent  two  hours  in  what  is  called 
the  Green  Vault.  It  is  the  depository  of  the  jewels  and 
previous  keepsakes  of  the  Court  of  Saxony.  They  occupy 
eight  rooms,  and  are  said  to  constitute,  the  most  valuable  col 
lection  of  the  kind  in  Europe.  I  cannot  describe  them.  Every 
article,  useful  and  ornamental,  to  be  worn  upon  the  persons 
of  men  or  women,  to  be  set  upon  the  tables  or  the  toilettes  of 
kings  and  queens,  or  to  gratify  their  love  of  the  beautiful  or 
curious,  was  there  displayed,  in  bronze,  in  ivory,  silver,  gold, 
crystals,  emeralds,  jaspers,  pearls,  onyxes,  diamonds,  and 
every  other  precious  and  half  precious  stone.  I  came  away 
without  the  slightest  wish  to  be  myself  the  possessor  of  so 
much  useless  treasure,  but  only  wishing  that  it  could  be 
exhumed  from  that  tomb,  and  converted  to  some  beneficent 
purpose. 

"  HORGEN,  June  15,  1859. 

"  Ever  since  the  year  1820,  the  name  of  Zurich  has  sent  a 
thrill  through  my  heart.  In  that  year,  a  particular  friend  of 
my  youth  lost  his  life  in  this  lake.  He  was  a  young  man 
of  an  excellent  spirit,  full  of  hope  and  high  aspiration;  but 
he  was  afflicted  with  an  infirmity  of  sight,  that  obliged  him, 
at  the  age  of  nineteen,  to  relinquish  his  plan  of  study,  and 
devote  himself  to  the  pursuit  of  health.  He  came  to  Europe, 
hoping  that  he  should  by  travel  enrich  his  mind  at  the  same 
time  that  he  was  invigorating  his  body.  He  came  to  Zurich, 
and  was  sailing  upon  this  beautiful  lake,  when  a  squall  sud- 


208  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

denly  struck  and  overset  the  boat.  He  was  unable  to  swim, 
and  was  drowned. 

"The  first  thing  I  did  after  my  arrival  at  Zurich,  day 
'before  yesterday,  was  to  go  to  the  cemetery,  and  search  for 
the  grave  of  my  friend  ;  but  without  success.  Yesterday 
morning,  I  found  an  intelligent  valet-de-place.  He  took  me 
to  the  R  ith  Haus,  or  City  Hall,  where,  in  one  of  the  offices, 
we  found  a  gentleman  who  well  remembered  the  sad  event. 
From  him  I  learnt  that  the  disaster  happened  about  five  miles 
Above,  near  the  village  of  Kusnacht,  and  that  my  friend's 
body  was  deposited  there. 

"  Yesterday  afternoon,  we  took  a  carriage  and  rode  out  to 
the  place.  There,  on  the  wall  of  the  village  church,  we  found 
a  black  marble  monument,  upon  which  was  the  following 
inscription  in  gilt  letters,  still  bright,  though  it  is  thirty-nine 
years  since  they  were  made :  — 

"  '  Here  rests  F.  W.  GODDARD,  from  Boston,  in  America, 
a  youth  of  nineteen  years,  who,  far  from  his  home,  in  a 
storm  on  Lake  Zurich,  struggling  with  the  waves,  found  his 
death.  He  died  at  Goldbach,  near  Kusnacht,  on  the  22d  of 
August,  1820.' 

"  There  was  a  sad  pleasure  in  standing  upon  the  spot 
where  the  person  of  my  early  friend  disappeared  from  this 
world,  and  seeing  that  the  good  people  of  the  place  had  done 
all  they  could  do  to  evince  their  pity  for  the  young  stranger, 
and  their  sympathy  for  his  distant  relatives.  They  buried 
him  in  a  conspicuous  place,  next  to  the  one  in  which,  two 
or  three  years  afterwards,  they  deposited  the  remains  of  their 
beloved  and  excellent  pastor,  if  the  epitaph  upon  his  monu 
ment  tells  truly  the  regard  in  which  he  was  held. 

The  poet  Wordsworth  was  in  Zurich  at  the  time  of  the 
catastrophe.  He  had  learned  somewhat  of  the  character  of 
my  young  friend,  as  well  as  the  circumstances  of  his  untimely 
death;  and  you  may  find,  in  the  collection  of  Wordsworth's 
Poems,  some  appropriate  and  touching  '  Lines  upon  a  young 
American,  Mr.  F.  W.  Goddard,  who  was  drowned  hi  the 
Lake  of  Zurich.'  " 


1859,  EUROPE.  209 

"  HOTEL  BYRON,  LAKE  OF  GENEVA, 
June  24, 1859. 

"  At  nine  o'clock  we  left  the  Mountain  House  (Rhigi),  and 
commenced  our  descent  on  the  opposite  side.  As  I  had 
before  determined,  I  would  not  venture  upon  a  horse's  back 
down  the  many  very  steep  places  that  I  was  told  were  on  the 
way.  I  had  not  strength  enough  to  walk  to  the  bottom  so 
soon  as  our  party  wished  to  get  there.  Nothing  else  could 
do,  therefore,  but  take  a  '  chaise  &  porteur,' — a  stout  arm 
chair  with  a  foot-board,  swung  between  two  long  poles,  and 
carried  by  two  men.  It  proved  to  be  an  easy,  and,  on  the 
whole,  an  agreeable  mode  of  conveyance  over  such  a  road. 
One  has  to  reconcile  himself  to  the  apparent  misuse  of  his 
fellow-men,  in  thus  subjecting  them  to  the  work  of  horses. 
But  I  found  men  there  eager  for  the  job.  They  could  earn 
more  money  in  that  way,  in  three  hours,  than  they  could  in 
two  days  at  farming;  and,  as  one  of  them  said  to  one  of  my 
lady  companions,  who  expressed  her  unwillingness  to  impose 
on  them  such  hard  work,  '  Oh !  God  gives  us  the  strength  to 
do  it,  and  gives  you  the  money  to  pay  for  it.'  So  I  made 
myself  easy,  and  more  easy  by  occasionally  getting  out  of  my 
chair  and  walking  a  half  mile." 

"  CHAMOUNI,  June  28. 

"  In  December,  1820,  I  went  to  Springfield,  Mass.,  to  visit 
my  friend,  Rev.  W.  B.  O.  Peabody,  and  preach  my  first  ser 
mon  from  his  pulpit.  He  was  a  true  poet  himself,  and  an 
ardent  lover  of  the  good  poetry  of  others.  During  my  stay 
with  him,  he  repeated  to  me  many  choice  pieces.  One  in  par 
ticular  is  now  brought  most  effectually  to  my  remembrance. 
It  was  Coleridge's  '  Hymn  to  Mont  Blanc,  written  at  Cha- 
mouni,  an  hour  before  sunrise.'  I  was  so  much  delighted 
with  it  that  I  copied  it,  and  committed  it  to  memory.  It  had 
not  then  been  published  in  our  country.  Mr.  Peabody  had 
recently  received  it,  in  manuscript,  from  a  friend  in  England. 
It  was  too  good  to  be  kept  for  the  gratification  of  the  few. 


210  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

So  I  sent  a  copy  of  it  to  Rev.  H.  Ware,  Jr.,  the  editor  of  the 
*  Christian  Disciple,'  Boston,  and  it  was  published  in  that 
excellent  periodical  in  the  course  of  the  year  1821." 

"  GENEVA,  June  29, 1859. 

"  This  forenoon  I  went  to  the  large  old  cathedral  church 
where  John  Calvin  preached  for  more  than  twenty  years.  It 
was  despoiled  of  every  vestige  of  the  Roman  Catholic  worship, 
for  which  it  was  built.  But  it  is  ill  adapted  to  the  Protestant 
service,  which  it  is  intended  the  people  should  hear  and 
understand.  The  voice  of  the  preacher  reverberated  so  from 
the  lofty  arches  of  the  Gothic  building,  nave,  aisles,  transept, 
and  apse,  that  I  could  not  perceive  the  articulation  of  half 
the  words  the  reverend  gentleman  uttered.  His  manner 
was  earnest,  impressive,  eloquent,  but  his  words  I  could  not 
hear ;  and,  I  am  ashamed  to  say  (such  is  my  ignorance  of  the 
French  language,  in  which  he  spoke)  I  should  not  have 
understood  half  if  I  had  heard  all. 

"  At  the  conclusion  of  the  service,  I  went  to  the  foot  of  the 
pulpit  stairs,  and  waited  until  the  minister  descended.  I 
found  he  understood  no  more  of  my  language  than  I  did  of 
his.  But  I  communicated  to  him  my  wish  to  know  if  that 
was  indeed  the  church  and  the  pulpit  in  which  John  Calvin 
used  to  preach.  He  assured  me  they  were  the  same;  "  and 
there,"  said  he,  "is  the  chair  in  which  he  sat."  So  I 
ascended  the  pulpit  stairs,  and  sat  down  awhile  in  the  very 
chair  of  the  great  Reformer. 

"  As  I  was  coming  out  of  the  church,  an  agreeable-looking 
young  gentleman  accosted  me  in  correct  but  imperfectly  pro 
nounced  English.  I  soon  learned  that  he  was  a  Norwegian, 
taking  Switzerland  on  his  way  to  one  of  the  universities  in 
Germany,  whither  he  is  going  to  study  theology.  We  were 
not  long  in  getting  acquainted  sufficiently  to  walk  together  to 
the  house  in  which  Calvin  dwelt  nearly  all  the  while  that 
he  lived  in  Geneva.  It  is  now  occupied  by  the  Sisters  of 
Charity. 


1859,  EUROPE.  211 

"  On  my  return  to  our  hotel,  I  met,  upon  the  bridge  that 
connects  the  old  part  of  the  city  with  the  new,  a  blind  old 
man,  with  a  bundle  of  papers,  which  he  was  loudly  crying 
for  sale.  I  bought  one,  and  found  it,  as  I  expected,  an  extra 
filled  with  items  of  news  from  the  seat  of  the  war,  and  from 
other  parts  of  Italy  ;  items  that  will  reach  you,  no  doubt, 
before  this  letter  can.  Truly,  the  last  battle  has  been  a 
fearful  one;  almost  without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of 
modern  warfare." 

.  During  the  three  months  which  he  spent  in  Great 
Britain,  Mr.  May  lectured  upon  slavery,  by  request,  to 
large  audiences  in  several  of  the  chief  cities  of  the 
kingdom,  and  had  meetings  for  conversation  with  the 
prominent  Abolitionists,  especially  in  London,  Glasgow, 
and  Dublin.  He  enjoyed  meeting  Miss  Carpenter,  Miss 
Estlin,  Miss  Cobbe,  Richard  D.  Webb,  Lord  Morpeth, 
Mr.  Martineau,  and  many  other  persons  in  whom  he 
had  long  been  interested.  We  have  heard  that  Miss 
Cobbe  said  that  if  any  one  could  reconvert  her  to  Chris 
tianity  it  would  be  a  person  of  Mr.  May's  spirit,  and 
his  attractive  way  of  presenting  the  claims  of  Jesus ; 
and  that  she  acknowledged  his  success  in  satisfying 
her,  for  the  first  time,  of  the  justice  and  importance  of 
the  movement  in  behalf  of  the  rights  of  women.  He 
must  have  written  many  letters  from  Great  Britain,  but 
only  two  have  come  into  our  possession.  The  first  ia 
addressed  to  Theodore  Parker. 

LONDON,  Aug.  5,  1859. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — I  reached  this  city  yesterday  after* 
noon,  and  to-day  have  learnt  your  place  of  residence. 

You  left  Paris  a  few  days  before  I  arrived  there,  and  were 


212  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

probably  going  up  the  Rhine  about  the  same  time  that  I  ^  as 
coming  down  ;  thus  showing  that  you  have  brought  your 
contrary,  perverse  spirit  all  across  the  Atlantic  with  you. 
Oh,  my  dear  friend,  when  will  you  learn  that  you  ought  to 
go  just  the  same  way  that  others  do  ;  and  that  it  is  much 
easier  to  swim  with  the  current  than  against  it?  Well,  well, 
if  my  example  has  had  no  effect,  it  will  be  useless  for  me  to 
spend  words  upon  you. 

But  I  did  not  "take  my  pen  in  hand"  to  reproach  you 
for  wrongheadedness,  but  to  make  an  earnest  inquiry  about 
your  health.  Do  tell  me  exactly  how  you  are,  if  you  feel 
a  consciousness  of  returning  soundness.  I  would  give  much 
to  set  eyes  on  you,  and  judge  for  myself  ;  though  your  tes 
timony,  even  then,  would  be  of  more  value  than  my  own 
judgment.  I  saw  Charles  Sumner  in  Rome.  He  looked 
well,  but  was  much  more  disconcerted  by  coming  up  two  or 
three  flights  of  stairs  than  a  strong  man  would  have  been. 
However,  I  pressed  my  inquiries  about  his  health,  and  re 
ceived  very  satisfactory  replies.  He  told  me  of  the  changes 
that  had  taken  place  in  his  physical  condition,  and  assured 
me  he  felt  confident  that  the  effects  of  the  injury  he  received 
were  well-nigh  obliterated.  I  pray  that  it  may  be  so. 

You  have  heard,  no  doubt,  that  his  Alrna  Mater  has  at 
length  put  forth  her  tender  hand,  and  applied  her  LL.D 
lotion  to  his  wounds.  This,  of  course,  will  complete  the 
cure,  and  efface  even  the  scar. 

And  now,  dear  Parker,  do  let  me  know  just  how  you  are  ; 
what  remedies  you  are  trying,  and  with  what  effect.  I  hope 
you  will  not  allow  yourself  to  attempt  much,  bodily  or 
mentally.  I  hope  you  are  in  a  quiet  place,  a  sweet  retire 
ment.  Rapid  journeyings  and  daily  sight-seeing  I  find  are 
not  very  beneficial  to  a  jaded,  nervous  system.  I  have 
erred  somewhat  in  that  direction,  and  mean  to  be  much 
more  moderate. 

My  tour  has  been  most  interesting  and  instructive  to  me. 
Would  I  had  taken  one  like  it  thirty  years  ago  1  But  what  I 


1859,  EUROPE.  213 

have  learnt  may  be  of  some  use  to  others  as  well  as  myself 
even  now,  before  I  quit  the  body;  and  afterwards  —  surely, 
the  knowledge  we  acquire  in  this  life  will  not  be  all  lost. 
Give  my  best  regards  to  your  wife  and  Miss  Stevenson, 
and  be  assured  of  the  love  of, 

Yours  truly,  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

August  8. 

William  and  Ellen  Crafts  speak  of  you  with  the  warmest 
affection,  and  desire  me  to  send  their  love  to  you  and  Mrs. 
Parker.  I  took  tea  with  them  last  evening.  They  are  living 
"(with  their  three  beautiful  little  boys)  very  neatly  and  pret 
tily.  I  am  ashamed  to  add,  they  have  no  wish  to  go  back  to 
our  country. 

August  9. 

I  have  just  read  with  delight  your  beautiful  letter  of 
June  25,  in  the  "Liberator"  of  July  22,  which  George 
Thompson  put  into  my  hand  last  night.  But  is  it  possible 
the  date  given  in  the  "Liberator"  is  correct,  the  25th  of 
June  ?  I  left  Hotel  Byron  on  the  morning  of  that  day,  and 
was  in  the  village  of  Montreux  for  an  hour,  the  afternoon 
before.  Mrs.  Edward  and  Miss  Elizabeth  Hoar  (of  Concord) 
and  I  went  over  from  Hotel  Byron  to  Montreux  to  see  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Hawthorne,  who,  we  were  told,  were  there.  We 
then  visited  together  the  Castle  and  Dungeon  of  Chillon. 
Can  it  be  that  I  was  so  near  you  then,  and  did  not  know  it? 
I  will  not  believe  it  on  the  authority  of  a  newspaper. 

GLASGOW,  Aug.  23. 

The  train  did  not  come  up  until  fifteen  minutes  after  I 
reached  the  station.  So  I  took  out  my  fac-simile  of  the 
Cotter's  Saturday  Night;  and  in  full  view  of  the  beautiful 
hills  and  valleys  of  the  Ayrshire,  upon  which  the  eye  of 
Burns  had  so  often  dwelt  with  delight,  I  read  this  most  ex 
quisite  poem  with  a  deeper  enjoyment  of  its  beauties  than 
ever  before. 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

In  order  that  I  might  see  more  of  the  Scotch  people,  and 
at  the  same  time  save  two  dollars,  I  took  a  seat  in  a  third- 
class  car.  It  was  filled  with  well-behaved  persons  of  various 
social  positions.  Two  young  country  squires  rode  with  us 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles,  having  their  dogs,  and  their  bags, 
full  of  grouse,  under  their  seats.  Not  far  off  sat  a  well- 
dressed,  pretty  lassie,  of  seventeen,  with  a  large  frame,  con 
taining,  I  suppose,  a  picture  she  had  just  finished  at  some 
boarding-school.  But,  alas  !  right  before  me  sat  two  High 
landers,  in  full  costume,  each  with  a  bagpipe,  upon  which 
they  played  most  of  the  time  with  stentorian  lungs,  making 
music  about  as  agreeable  as  that  of  a  large  locust  in  a  hot 
summer's  day,  accompanied  by  a  stout  boy  blowing  a 
squash-vine  trumpet. 

I  have  been  exceedingly  fortunate  in  the  companions  that 
I  have  had.  [In  his  tour  through  Europe.]  They  have  been, 
persons  of  my  own  land  and  other  nations,  but  from  every  one 
I  have  received  kindnesses  that  have  made  me  their  debtor 
for  ever.  I  wish  particularly  to  report  that  I  have  uniformly 
found  the  English  people  with  whom  I  have  travelled  cour 
teous,  obliging,  and  sociable.  In  several  instances  they  have 
made  the  first  advance,  have  proffered  me  some  favor,  and 
have  taken  pains  to  oblige  me. 

The  impression  which  Mr.  May  himself  made  upon  his 
fellow-travellers  may  be  learned  from  a  letter  written, 
in  response  to  our  inquiries,  by  a  lady  whose  society 
abroad  gave  him  very  great  pleasure :  — 

CONCORD,  MASS.,  Dec.  17,  1871. 

I  do  not  know  that  I  can  tell  you  any  thing  about  him 
which  will  add  to  your  store  of  illustrations  of  those  beau 
tiful  traits  which  made  him  so  beloved  and  honored.  His 
histories  of  a  life  so  full  and  so  beneficent  were  endlessly 
entertaining  to  us  all,  as  we  passed  over  long  distances 


1859,  EUROPE.  215 

togethei  in  railway  or  post  carriage.  They  came  without 
egotism,  quite  impersonally,  as  illustrations  from  experience 
of  some  general  remark  or  opinion  of  others  or  his  own. 
And  through  all  shone  the  same  single-hearted  righteousness, 
love  of  God  and  man,  wisdom  and  courage  born  of  love, 
which  ' '  goeth  and  passeth  through  all  things  by  reason  of 
her  pureness."  Ht  made  friends  with  children  and  mothers 
as  we  travelled,  in  Italy,  in  Germany,  and  France,  where 
they  had  no  word  of  language  in  common.  But  they  felt 
'and  loved  the  tenderness  and  good-will  which  could  not 
refrain  from  blessing  the  little  children. 

The  variety  and  extent  of  his  activity  and  his  sympathy 
impressed  us  all  very  much.  His  stories  of  his  father  and 
mother,  their  adopted  children,  his  father's  death-bed,  when 
he  said  :  "  '  And  now  you  must  let  the  old  man  go.'  And 
I  put  my  arms  round  his  neck,  and  said,  *  Father,  you 
shall  ! '  '  It  was  all  a  part  of  the  same  poem.  Every  thing 
seemed  touched  with  the  same  sweetness  ;  and  withal  he  had 
great  spirit  and  vivacity,  and  sense  of  humor  and  fun,  when 
it  was  due,  and  little  flashes  of  dramatic  power  in  relating 
exciting  or  amusing  conversations.  And  in  all  these  four 
months,  when  we  were  together  almost  from  morning  to 
night,  in  the  chances  and  fatigues  of  travelling,  I  never  saw 
a  shadow  of  selfishness  on  his  face  ;  and  we  shaped  our  plans 
of  travel  with  the  first  consideration  that  "  we  should  not 
lose  Mr.  May." 

And  we  cannot  lose  Mr.  May.  The  remembrance  of  him, 
the  presence  of  such  a  life,  is  a  joy  for  ever,  though  great  is 
the  sorrow  that  we  can  see  his  face  here  no  more.  ' '  Where'er 
he  be,  God  grant  us  there  to  meet."  I  feel  almost  as  if  I 
were  sending  my  love  to  him  by  you,  in  writing  this  very 
imperfect  acknowledgment  of  the  honor  done  me  in  speaking 
of  me  as  one  of  Mr.  May's  friends. 

With  much  regard,  yours  truly, 

ELIZABETH  HOAR 


216  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

On  arriving  at  Halifax,  Nov.  3,  1859,  Mr.  May  heard 
of  Captain  John  Brown's  attack  upon  Harper's  Ferry, 
and  w^ote  in  his  Diary  :  — 

' '  I  have  read  the  accounts  of  the  attempt  of  Captain  Brown 
to  get  up  an  insurrection  at  Harper's  Ferry.  This,  I  appre 
hend,  is  but  the  beginning  of  sorrows  ;  the  pattering  of  the 
rain  before  a  hurricane." 

When  Mr.  May  reached  Syracuse,  a  public  reception 
was  given  to  him.  An  address  of  welcome  was  deliv 
ered,  and  speeches  were  made  by  the  gratified  pastor 
and  Rev.  Joseph  Angier,  who  had  taken  good  care  of 
his  flock  during  his  absence. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

ANTISLAVERY. 

THE  UNDERGROUND  RAILROAD.  —  VISITS  CANADA  IN  BEHALF 
OF  THE  FUGITIVE  SLAVES.  —  THE  JERRY  RESCUE.  —  TEST 
OF  HIS  NON-RESISTANCE  PRINCIPLES.  —  CORRESPONDENCE 

ABOUT   HOLDING   AN  ANTISLAVERY    CONVENTION.  —  THREAT 
ENED  WITH  VIOLENCE.  —  His  EIRMNESS. —  HE  is  MOBBED, 

AND   BURNED    IN   EFFIGY. 

AFTER  his  removal  to  Syracuse,  Mr.  May  contin 
ued  to  be  very  active  and  prominent  in  promoting 
the  antislavery  reform.  He  soon  became  known  far 
and  wide  as  a  fearless  and  uncompromising  Abolitionist. 
He  lectured  in  many  places ;  and  antislavery  conven 
tions  were  often  held  in  Syracuse,  which,  on  account  of 
its  central  position,  is,  like  Worcester,  Mass.,  sometimes 
called  "The  City  of  Conventions."  Whenever  the 
friends  of  freedom  assembled  in  his  vicinity,  Mr.  May's 
hospitality  was  limited  only  by  the  size  of  his  house 
and  the  length  of  his  table. 

As  early  as  1834,  while  living  at  Brooklyn,  Conn., 
he  had  fugitive  slaves  consigned  to  his  care,  and  he 
forwarded  them  to  the  next  station  on  "  The  Under 
ground  Railroad."  At  Syracuse,  a  great  deal  of  human 
freight  passed  through  his  hands  upon  the  invisible 
rout  e.  Hundreds  of  men,  women,  and  children,  fleeing 
from  bondage,  and  bound  for  Canada,  came  to  him  for 
10 


218  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

protection  and  help,  and  they  never  came  in  vain.  In 
his  "Recollections  of  the  Antislavery  Conflict"  he  gives 
an  account  of  the  appearance  and  adventures  of  some  of 
these  victims  of  American  despotism.  The  mysterious 
trains  used  to  arrive  at  Mr.  May's  house  about  eleven 
o'clock  at  night,  and  he  was  sometimes  kept  busy  until 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning  conducting  the  passengers 
to  places  where  they  could  stay  in  safety  until  the  road 
to  Canada  should  be  reported  free  from  all  obstructions. 
Sometimes,  in  defiance  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  he 
would  announce  from  his  pulpit  the  presence  of  fugi 
tives  in  the  city,  and  take  a  collection  in  their  behalf. 
He  visited  Canada,  and  made  an  extended  tour  among 
the  colored  settlements,  to  satisfy  himself  as  to  their 
prospects  there. 

In  October,  1850,  many  of  the  best  citizens  of  Syra 
cuse  publicly  declared  that  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law 
should  not  be  enforced  in  that  place,  and  a  vigilance 
committee  was  appointed.  A  large  number  of  persons 
made  an  agreement  to  stand  by  each  other  in  resisting 
the  law.  A  rendezvous  was  fixed  upon;  and  it  was 
agreed  that  any  member  of  the  association  who  might 
hear  of  a  person  in  danger  should  toll  the  bell  of  an 
adjoining  meeting-house  in  a  particular  manner,  and 
that,  on  hearing  that  signal,  all  the  rest  should  hasten 
to  the  spot. 

The  determination  of  many  of  the  best  citizens  of 
Onondaga  County  was  well  known  throughout  the 
country ;  and  in  June,  1851,  Mr.  Webster,  as  a  repre 
sentative  of  the  government,  made  a  speech  in  Syracuse 


ANTISLAVERY.  219 

which  seemed  designed  to  intimidate  the  opponents  of 
the  infamous  law.  He  called  them  traitors,  and  declared 
that  the  law  should  be  enforced  in  that  place,  in  the 
midst  of  the  next  antislavery  convention,  if  there  should 
then  be  any  occasion  to  enforce  it. 

On  the  first  day  of  October,  1851,  just  as  Mr.  May 
was  about  to  rise  from  dinner,  he  heard  the  signal  bell, 
and  hurried  to  the  appointed  place,  a  mile  from  his 
Jiouse.  On  the  way,  he  learned  that  Jerry  McHenry 
had  been  arrested  as  a  fugitive  slave,  and  taken  to  the 
office  of  the  commissioner.  Proceeding  to  the  court 
room,  Mr.  May  found  the  prisoner  manacled,  and  not 
allowed  to  state  his  own  case,  nor  to  refute  the  testi 
mony  of  his  adversary.  Not  being  very  closely  guarded, 
Jerry  soon  slipped  out  of  the  room,  and  ran  for  his  lib 
erty.  He  got  off  nearly  half  a  mile  before  he  was  re 
taken,  and  then  surrendered  only  after  a  furious  fight 
in  which  he  was  seriously  injured.  He  was  thrown 
into  a  wagon,  two  policemen  sat  upon  him,  and  so  they 
rode,  through  the  central  streets  of  the  city,  back  to  the 
commissioner's  office. 

The  people  were  very  much  excited,  and  told  Mr. 
May  that,  if  he  would  speak  the  word,  they  would  have 
Jerry  out.  But  he  advised  them  to  wait  until  it  should 
become  dark.  The  chief  of  police  asked  Mr.  May  to 
talk  with.  Jerry,  who  needed  to  be  soothed.  In  the 
course  of  this  interview,  Mr.  May  managed  to  make 
Jerry  understand  that  he  had  friends  who  did  not  mean 
that  he  should  be  taken  back  to  slavery.  Mr.  May  then 
went  to  the  office  of  the  late  D"  Hiram  Hoyt,  where  he 


220  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY 

found  twenty  or  thirty  picked  men,  including  Gerrit 
Smith,  who  happened  to  be  in  town  attending  a  Liberty 
Party  Convention.  The  plan  of  a  rescue  was  discussed, 
and  all  the  arrangements  for  it  were  made  with  skill  and 
despatch.  Strict  injunctions  were  given  not  to  injure 
the  policemen  intentionally,  and  Mr.  May  said,  "  If  any 
one  is  to  be  hurt  in  this  fray,  I  hope  it  may  be  one  of 
our  own  party." 

About  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  the  police  office 
was  in  th*e  possession  of  the  opponents  of  the  law,  and 
the  officers  were  overpowered.  Jerry  was  taken  to  a 
place  of  refuge,  where  his  shackles  were  cut  off,  and, 
after  several  days'  concealment,  he  was  sent  to  Canada, 
in  spite  of  the  utmost  vigilance  on  the  part  of  the  ad 
ministration. 

Then  began  a  series  of  persecutions.  Eighteen  per 
sons  were  indicted,  and  taken  to  Auburn.  They  went 
accompanied  by  nearly  a  hundred  of  their  fellow-citi 
zens,  including  ladies.  At  Auburn,  Hon.  W.  H.  Seward 
put  his  name  first  upon  the  bond  required  from  their 
sureties,  and  invited  "  the  rescuers  of  Jerry  "  and  their 
friends  to  accept  the  hospitality  of  his  house.  A  mass 
convention  of  citizens  of  Onondaga  County  met,  and 
justified  the  rescue.  Some  of  the  public  journals  de 
nounced  Mr.  May  as  the  most  responsible  person  in  this 
act  of  K  treason."  Mr.  May,  Gerrit  Smith,  and  Charles 
A.  Wheaton  published  an  acknowledgment  that  they 
had  assisted  all  they  could  in  the  rescue  of  Jerry  ;  that 
they  were  ready  for  trial ;  that  they  would  give  the 
Court  no  trouble  as  to  the  fact,  and  should  rest  their 


ANTISLAVERY.  221 

defence  upon  the  unconstitutionality  and  extreme  wick 
edness  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law.  As  it  was  not  found 
expedient  to  punish  the  chief  persons  concerned  in  the 
rescue,  and  it  was  not  creditable  to  the  government 
to  continue  its  prosecutions  of  obscure  offenders  while 
distinguished  ones,  who  avowed  their  responsibility, 
were  unmolest  3d ;  and  it  was  impossible  to  empanel  a 
jury  which  would  not  contain  persons  who  had  formed 
-an  opinion  against  the  law,  the  "Jerry  Rescue  Causes" 
were  finally  abandoned.  For  several  years  afterwards, 
the  anniversary  of  the  rescue  of  Jerry  was  duly  cele 
brated  at  Syracuse  with  great  enthusiasm.1 

Just  after  the  election  of  President  Lincoln,  the  fierce 
threats  of  disunion  made  by  the  slaveholders  caused  the 
leading  politicians  of  the  free  States  to  become  very  de 
sirous  that  no  imprudent  utterances  concerning  slavery 
should  be  made  at  the  North,  at  least  until  the  new 

1  When  Mr.  May  was  accused  of  inconsistency  because,  al 
though  an  avowed  friend  of  peace,  he  counselled  determined  oppo 
sition  to  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  he  replied  :  "  I  only  insisted 
that  all  good  men  and  true  ought  to  withstand  the  execution  of 
that  infamous  law,  in  the  way  and  by  the  means  that  they  each 
one  of  them  conscientiously  believed  to  be  right.  I  declared  I 
had  no  confidence  in  the  use  of  deadly  weapons  ;  that  I  would  not 
carry  even  my  cane  to  the  rescue  of  one  who  should  be  seized 
under  the  law.  I  would  hold  a  man  who  was  attempting  to  exe 
cute  it,  if  I  could ;  overpower  him,  if  I  had  strength  so  to  do  ;  but 
not  intentionally  harm  a  hair  of  his  head.  Nevertheless,  I  did 
solemnly  enjoin  it  upon  those  who  believed  it  right,  in  the  sight 
of  God,  for  them  to  fight  for  their  own  liberty,  or  for  the  liberty  of 
a  white  brother ;  I  did  enjoin  it  upon  them,  if  it  should  seem 
necessary,  to  fight  for  the  rescue  of  any  black  man  from  the  hor 
rors  of  a  return  into  slavery." 


222  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

administration  should  be  in  full  possession  of  the  power 
to  which  it  would  soon  be  entitled.  The  Abolitionists, 
however,  were  equally  desirous  that  the  Northern  peo 
ple  should  not  be  intimidated  by  threats,  nor  misled  by 
apprehensions  of  material  losses.  Therefore  they  pro 
posed  to  continue  the  holding  of  their  conventions,  and 
to  urge  the  people  not  to  recede  an  inch  on  account  of 
Southern  menaces.  But  their  meetings  were  violently 
assailed  in  Boston  and  other  cities.  The  Mayor  of 
Syracuse  earnestly  requested  Mr.  May  to  prevent  the 
holding  of  a  meeting  in  that  city,  lest  it  should  provoke 
a  riot,  although  he  acknowledged  their  right  to  assem 
ble,  and  promised  to  protect  them.  Twenty  of  the 
most  influential  gentlemen  of  Syracuse,  nearly  half  of 
whom  were  his  parishioners,  addressed  a  letter  to  Mr. 
May,  informing  him  that  they  were  credibly  informed 
that  an  organized  and  forcible  effort  to  prevent  the 
holding  of  the  Abolition  Convention  would  be  made. 
These  gentlemen  declared  that  it  would  be  their  duty, 
as  good  citizens,  to  protect  the  Convention ;  but  they 
urged  Mr.  May  to  exert  his  influence  to  prevent  its 
assembling,  because,  in  the  excited  condition  of  the 
public  mind,  it  could  only  be  productive  of  evil. 

Probably  this  was  one  of  the  severest  tests  to  which 
Mr.  May's  loyalty  to  his  own  convictions  was  ever  sub 
jected.  He  had  the  most  affectionate  regard  for  some 
of  these  gentlemen,  and  the  greatest  confidence  in  their 
wisdom  and  fidelity  in  ordinary  matters ;  but  he  also 
felt  that  liberty  of  speech  was  in  peril,  and  he  felt  bound 
to  answer  them  with  the  same  respectful  firmness  that 
he  had  shown  in  his  reply  to  the  Mayor :  — 


ANTISLAVERY.  223 

SYRACUSE,  January  28, 1861. 
1.45  P.M. 

GENTLEMEN,  —  Your  communication  requesting  me  to 
exert  my  influence  to  prevent  the  assembling  of  the  Anti- 
Slavery  Convention,  called  to  meet  on  the  29th  and  30th, 
came  to  hand  at  a  quarter  to  twelve. 

The  Committee  of  Arrangements  have  not  yet  come  to  the 
city;  and  I  have  no  authority  to  postpone  the  Convention 
on  their  behalf.  They  may  not  arrive  until  this  evening 
or  to-morrow  morning.  Meanwhile,  there  is  not  time  for 
•me  to  see  enough  of  the  friends  of  the  antislavery  cause, 
residing  in  Syracuse,  to  sustain  me  in  assuming  the  responsi 
bility  of  preventing  the  meeting  for  the  reasons  you  assign. 
In  common  with  my  associates,  I  am  very  sincere  in  believ 
ing  that  the  principles  we  inculcate,  and  the  measures  we 
advise,  are  the  only  ones  that  can  extirpate  from  our  country 
that  evil  which  now  overshadows  us,  and  threatens  our  ruin 
as  a  nation.  We  have  much  to  say  to  the  people,  much 
that  we  deem  it  most  important  that  they  should  hear  and 
ponder,  lest  they  bow  themselves  to  another  compromise 
with  the  slaveholding  oligarchy,  which  for  the  last  twenty- 
five  years  has  ruled  our  Republic,  and  which  nothing  would 
satisfy  but  the  entire  subjugation  of  our  liberties  to  their 
"peculiar  institution." 

We  perceive  that  the  "strong"  men  of  the  Republican 
party  are  trembling,  and  concession  and  compromise  are 
coming  to  be  their  only  hope.  We  deprecate  their  fears, 
their  want  of  confidence  in  moral  principle  and  God.  We  do 
not  consider  the  reunion  of  our  divided  States  of  so  much 
consequence  as  we  do  a  steadfast  adherence  to  the  true  and 
the  right.  We,  therefore,  feel  deeply  urged  to  cry  aloud, 
and  warn  the  people  of  the  snare  into  which  politicians  and 
statesmen  would  lead  them.  We  should  at  least  offer  to 
speak,  whether  the  people  will  hear  or  whether  they  will 
forbear. 
If,  gentlemen,  you  had  assured  me  that  our  proposed 


224  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

meeting  will  be  violently  assaulted  ;  that  those  who  may 
assemble  peacefully  to  listen  to  us  will  not  be  allowed  to  hear 
us ;  that  they  will  be  dispersed  with  insult,  if  not  with  per 
sonal  injury ;  and  that  you,  gentlemen  of  influence  as  you 
are,  shall  stand  aloof  and  let  the  violent  have  their  way : 
then  I  should  have  felt  it  to  be  incumbent  on  me  to  advertise 
the  friends  of  liberty  and  humanity  that  it  would  not  be 
worth  their  while  to  convene,  as  it  would  be  only  to  be 
dispersed. 

But,  gentlemen,  as  you  generously  "affirm"  in  the  letter 
before  me  ' '  that  your  duties  as  citizens  would  require  you  to 
aid  in  extending  protection  to  our  Convention,  in  case  it 
shall  be  convened,  in  the  exercise  of  all  the  rights  which  all 
deliberative  bodies  may  claim;"  and  as  the  Mayor  of  our 
city  has  assured  me  that  ' '  he  shall  fearlessly  use  every  means 
at  his  command  to  secure  order,  and  to  prevent  any  inter 
ference  with  our  proceedings,"  I  feel  that  I  should  not  be 
justified  in  assuming  the  responsibility  of  postponing  the 
Convention.  For,  gentlemen,  if  you  will  do  what  you 
acknowledge  to  be  your  duty,  and  if  the  Mayor  will  fulfil  his 
generous  promise,  I  am  confident  the  rioters  will  be  over 
awed,  the  liberty  of  speech  will  be  vindicated,  and  the  city 
rescued  from  a  deep  disgrace. 

Yours,  gentlemen,  in  great  haste,  but 
Very  respectfully, 

SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

P.  S.  POLICE  OFFICE,  4£  P.M.  —  Since  the  above  was 
written,  the  Committee  of  Arrangements  have  arrived  ;  and 
without  knowing  what  I  have  written  above,  they,  each  of 
them,  after  hearing  your  communication  and  the  Mayor's 
letter,  determined  that  it  was  our  duty  to  go  on  with  the 
Convention  ;  to  present  ourselves  at  the  time  and  place 
appointed,  and  offer  to  the  people  the  advice  we  have  to 
give  in  this  emergency  of  our  country.  S.  J.  M. 


ANT1SLAVERY.  225 

Before  the  hour  appointed  for  the  meeting  of  the 
Convention,  rioters  took  possession  of  the  hall  which 
Mr.  May  had  hired  for  the  occasion ;  fists  were  thrust 
into  his  face,  and  rough  men  swore  that  they  would 
knock  him  down  and  put  him  out  of  the  hall  if  he  said 
another  word.  As  the  Convention  was  not  protected 
either  by  the  officers  of  the  law  or  by  good  citizens, 
some  of  its  members  retired  to  a  private  house,  and 
adopted  a  series  of  resolutions.  Soon  afterwards  the 
victorious  mob  celebrated  their  triumph  by  an  evening 
procession  led  by  a  band  of  music.  Their  transparent 
banners  bore  these  inscriptions :  "  Freedom  of  Speech, 
but  not  Treason ; "  "  The  Rights  of  the  South  must  be 
protected  ; "  "  Abolitionism  no  longer  in  Syracuse  ;  n 
"  The  Jerry  Rescuers  played  out."  An  effigy  bearing 
Mr.  May's  name  was  prominent  in  the  procession.  After 
it  had  been  carried  through  some  of  the  principal  streets, 
it  was  burned  in  Hanover  Square,  the  centre  of  the 
business  part  of  the  city. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  firing  upon  Fort  Sumter 
put  an  end  to  such  shameful  proceedings  in  the  free 
States. 


10* 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

SANITARY      COMMISSION,      AND      SOLDIERS'     AND 
FREEDMEN'S     RELIEF. 

ACTIVE  IN  SENDING  SUPPLIES  TO  THE  ARMY.  —  VISITS  THE 
CAMP,  AND  MINISTERS  TO  THE  WOUNDED  AFTER  THE  BAT 
TLE  OF  YORKTOWN,  VA.  —  His  INDIGNATION  ON  ACCOUNT 
OF  SWINDLING  PENSION  AGENTS.  —  "NOTHING  BUT  SLAV 
ERY  so  BAD  AS  WAR."  —  TEACHERS  FOR  THE  FREEDMEN. 

r  I  ^HE  years  of  the  war  brought  Mr.  May  deep  anxi- 
•*•  ety  and  redoubled  activities.  His  soul  was  deeply 
stirred  by  the  awful  thought  of  a  nation  plunging  into 
the  bloodshed  and  waste  of  war,  and  his  heart  was 
touched  with  a  constant  sympathy  for  the  various 
classes  of  sufferers.  As  a  long-time  advocate  of  peace, 
he  was  brought  to  face  a  problem  difficult  to  solve, 
when  the  action  of  the  South  forced  upon  the  nation 
a  choice  between  war  and  the  dismemberment  of  the 
Republic.  That  he  solved  it  to  his  own  perfect  satis 
faction  we  can  hardly  assert.  He  confesses  at  one 
time  that  "the  conduct  of  the  rebels  and  the  impend 
ing  fate  of  our  country  has  shaken  my  confidence  in  the 
extreme  principles  of  the  non-resistants."  But  he  never 
lost  his  faith  or  relinquished  his  advocacy  of  peace  prin 
ciples  as  an  ideal,  nor  ceased  to  be  acutely  sensitive  to 
the  wickedness  and  horror  which  follow  in  the  train  of 
warfare.  Neither  did  he  gain  much  confidence  that,  as 


SANITARY  COMMISSION. 

a  measure  of  self-protection,  it  was  really  much  to  be 
relied  on.  The  preparations  for  it  filled  him  with  sad 
ness  ;  although  he  said  often,  to  those  who  thought  war 
right,  that  they  were  called  on  not  to  shrink  from  up 
holding  their  principles  in  the  terrible  crisis  our  coun 
try  had  arrived  at.  Attending  a  war-meeting  in  the 
tarly  days  of  the  struggle,  he  records  :  "  I  cannot  find 
it  in  my  heart  to  urge  men  to  enlist."  His  great  con 
cern  was  the  spirit  and  views  of  those  influential  in  its 
direction ;  and  it  is  true  that  these  often  seemed  to  him 
so  imperfect,  influenced  so  much  by  a  temporizing  dis 
position,  and  long  so  wanting  in  just  apprehension  of 
the  true  cause  of  the  war  and  a  just  interest  in  direct 
ing  it  to  the  issue  of  universal  emancipation  and  en 
franchisement,  that  he  was  doubtful  of  its  result,  and 
depressed  with  painful  anticipations,  not  only  of  mili 
tary  defeat,  but  still  more  of  political  infidelity  and  its 
consequences. 

But  his  abhorrence  of  war,  and  doubt  of  the  spirit 
and  aims  with  which  ours  seemed  for  a  time  to  be 
conducted,  did  not  impair  the  readiness  with  which 
he  devoted  himself  to  mitigating  its  evils.  We  can  go 
little  into  details  of  his  philanthropic  activity ;  but  it  is 
perhaps  true  that  he  became  at  once  the  centre  of  the 
efforts  made*  in  his  own  vicinity  on  behalf  of  the  soldiers,] 
and  afterwards  of  the  freedmen.  Before  the  formation 
of  the  Sanitary  Commission,  he  aided  and  superin 
tended  the  collection  of  clothing  and  other  necessa 
ries  for  the  soldiers,  packing  and  despatching  boxes 
with  his  own  hands ;  and  when  the  Commission  was 


228  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAX. 

established,  earnestly  promoted  its  success,  co-operating 
constantly  with  its  leaders  and  officers.  To  ascertain 
the  condition  and  wants  of  the  soldiers  of  Onondaga 
County,  he  made,  at  the  request  of  the  citizens  of  Syr 
acuse,  one  or  two  journeys  to  the  scene  of  operations 
of  the  Potomac  army,  carrying  supplies  and  ministering 
to  the  moral  and  spiritual  wants  of  the  well  and  the 
invalid.  On  one  occasion  he  arrived  at  White  House 
when  a  great  number  of  wounded  were  coming  in  from 
the  recent  battle  at  Yorktown.  He  stopped  at  once, 
and  devoted  several  days  to  them,  assisting  to  dress 
their  wounds,  comforting  them  by  cheerful  sympathy, 
and  taking  messages  to  be  forwarded  to  their  friends. 
"  The  most  touching  thing,"  he  says,  "  was  the  patience 
and  fortitude  I  everywhere  witnessed.  I  did  not  hear 
a  murmur  or  complaint  all  that  terrible  time." *  At 
home  he  gave  much  time  to  the  welfare  of  the  soldiers' 
families,  obtaining  help  for  them,  and  securing  to 
them  the  pensions  which  became  their  due.  He  co 
operated  in  an  attempt  to  form  an  association  for  the 
protection  of  this  unfortunate  and  exposed  class ;  but 
this  was  apparently  merged  in  the  Sanitary  Commis 
sion.  For  the  wretches  who  availed  themselves  of 
the  inexperience  of  the  victims  of  the  war  to  defraud 
them,  he  kept  a  constant  look-out.  A  friend,  who  rode 
with  him  for  an  afternoon  on  errands  of  this  sort,  de 
scribes  finding  one  poor  woman  who  had  already  made 

1  On  arriving  home,  he  makes  this  record  in  his  Diary  :  "  Never 
so  glad  to  enter  my  own  door,  but  I  would  go  off  again  to-morro\? 
if  I  could  contribute  to  the  comfort  of  the  poor  soldiers." 


SANITARY  COMMISSION. 


229 


partial  arrangements  for  obtaining  her  pension  through 
a  notorious  swindler.  She  had  not,  however,  surren 
dered  her  papers ;  and  Mr.  May  enjoined  it  on  her  not 
to  do  so.  "  But  he  will  demand  them,"  she  replied, 
'anxiously.  "  Tell  him  when  he  comes  that  Samuel  J. 
May  told  you  not  to  give  them  to  him  ! "  was  his 
reply. 

All  the  incidents  of  the  war  he  followed  with  keen 
interest,  earnest  in  his  hopes  for  the  success  of  the 
Union  cause,  while  often  disappointed  and  grieved  by 
the  conduct  of  the  administration,  which  he,  neverthe 
less,  deemed  it  his  duty  to  sustain  by  his  vote.  In 
July,  1862,  he  makes  this  minute  in  his  Diary:  "I 
have  thought  and  felt  so  much  about  our  army  near 
Richmond  that  my  mind  and  heart  are  weary."  Again, 
a  little  later,  visiting  a  camp  near  home,  to  examine 
the  condition  of  the  soldiers,  he  says :  "  Nothing  but 
slavery  seems  to  me  so  bad  as  war."  By  such  con 
flicting  sentiments  was  his  heart  oppressed. 

During  all  these  years  his  ordinary  activities  con 
tinued  unabated.  Ministrations  to  his  parish,  and  to 
hundreds  of  other  persons  demanding  every  kind  of  aid 
or  sympathy,  filled  his  days  to  overflowing. 

For  the  freedmen  his  anxieties  and  labors  were 
peculiar,  for  he  knew  well  the  apathy  of  Northern 
sentiment  towards  their  race  ;  and,  in  the  preoccupied 
condition  of  the  public  mind,  found  it  hard  to  secure 
to  their  claims  the  interest  and  attention  due  them.  He 
occupied  himself  unceasingly  in  measures  for  their  relief 
and  education ;  forming  an  auxiliary  association,  appeal- 


230  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

ing  for  aid  through  the  press,  delivering  lectures  and 
sermons,  securing,  advising,  and  corresponding  with  their 
teachers,  and  giving  unstintedly  of  his  time  and  money 
to  their  cause.  He  was  often  pained  by  the  difficulty 
he  found  in  securing  interest  and  assistance  for  them. 
Even  the  charitably  disposed  were  often  weary  and 
exhausted  in  means  by  the  demands  of  the  white  suf 
ferers.  "  I  find,"  he  writes  on  one  occasion,  in  his  Diary, 
"that  the  burden  of  this  effort  is  to  come  upon  myself." 
For  three  or  four  years  his  Diaries  are  sown  with 
minutes  of  his  exertions.  Often  he  despatched  boxes 
of  goods  to  the  soldiers  in  Virginia,  and  similar  ones  to 
the  freedmen  of  South  Carolina  or  on  the  Mississippi, 
on  the  same  day ;  or,  having  spent  the  forenoon  with 
teachers  on  their  way  to  freedmen  schools,  he  occu 
pied  the  afternoon  visiting  soldiers'  families  and  the 
camp,  and  in  helping  the  ladies  working  for  soldiers' 
relief. 

Of  all  this,  however,  we  can  only  speak  in  these  gen 
eral  terms.  His  brief  records  are  the  outline,  not  now 
to  be  filled  up,  of  constant,  unwearied,  but,  it  would 
appear,  most  exhausting  activity. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

CHARACTERISTICS. 

'Mr  MOST  MOVING  SPEECH."  —  "THE   LORD'S   CHORE  BOY." 

—  A  HARD  MAN  TO   HATE.  —  CONSIDERATE   COURTESY. — 
CONQUERED    WITH    KINDNESS.  —  MORAL    POWER.  —  MEMO 
RIES     OF     HIS     CHILDHOOD. — "  THE     PROPHET     or     THE 
EVERLASTING    COVENANT." — A   TERROR   TO   EVIL  DOERS. 

—  "I    DID    MEAN    You."  —  UNEXPECTED     GRATITUDE. — 
THE   LETTER  OF  INTRODUCTION.  —  CANDOR  AT  FUNERALS. 

—  THE  RIGHT  AND  THE  EXPEDIENT.  —  MAY  AND  JUNE. — 
Too     MANY     FRIENDS.  —  MR.     MAY     AND     DR.     LYMAN 
BEECHER.  —  A  STRANGH   REQUEST.  —  GIVING  AND  TAKING 
FRANKNESS.  —  APPLAUDED  IN  CHURCH.  —  THE  POWER  OF 
KINDNESS.  —  POLITICAL      PREACHING.  —  How     TO     TURN 
AWAY  WRATH.  —  THE  FAMILY   PLEDGE. — LOVE  OF  CHIL 
DREN. —  GENIALITY.  —  THE    IDEAL    AND    THE    ACTUAL. — 
ASHAMED    TO    DIE.  —  "THE    LORD     KNOWS     I    DO."  —  A 
MERITED      REPROOF.  —  A      DEATH-BED      REPENTANCE. — 
SLEEPING  WITH  A  MADMAN. — KEEPING  A  PROMISE  TO  A 
LUNATIC.  —  MR.  MAY'S  ROMAN  CATHOLIC  CANE. 

WHAT    HE    CALLED   "MY   MOST   MOVING    SPEECH." 

"TV  yf"R.  MAY  made  an  address  to  an  assembly  of 
-*•»-*•  Onondaga  Indians,  including  several  chiefs.  In 
the  plainest  terms  he  told  them  that,  if  they  expected 
or  desired  to  prosper,  they  must  overcome  their  con 
tempt  for  hard  work,  and  devote  themselves  to  regular 
and  constant  industry.  As  soon  as  he  ended  and 
"  paused  for  a  reply,"  an  old  chief  arose,  with  an  expres 
sive  grunt  of  disgust,  and  stalked  off  in  silent  dignity. 


232 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


He  was  followed  by  all  the  other  hearers,  until   the 
offending  speaker  was  left  entirely  alone. 


Mr.  A.  B.  Alcott  was  once  at  Syracuse  when  Mr. 
•May  was  engaged  from  morning  until  night  in  errands 
of  mercy,  —  visiting  the  sick,  burying  the  dead,  helping 
fugitive  slaves  and  canal  boys,  and  prisoners  who  wished 
to  reform.  When  he  reached  home  at  evening,  and 
was  drawing  off  the  boots  from  his  weary  feet,  Mr. 
Alcott  said  :  "  I  have  found  a  new  name  for  you.  You 
are  the  Lord's  chore  boy.  You  do  the  Lord's  chores." 

A    HARD    MAN    TO    HATE. 

An  active  politician,  who  frequently  denounced  Mr. 
May  in  the  bitterest  terms,  and  expected  to  be  regarded 
by  him  as  an  enemy,  was  so  overcome  by  Mr.  May's 
kindness  that  he  said  in  his  despair  of  effecting  a 
quarrel:  "I  have  got  to  give  up  trying  to  hate  that 
man.  You  know  I  have  a  sick  child,  but  I  went  to 
a  meeting  to  abuse  the  Abolitionists.  Soon  after  I 
heard  Mr.  May's  voice  calling  my  name  in  the  street. 
Turning  round,  I  found  his  face  full  of  neighborly  ten 
derness;  and  all  he  said  was,  <I  do  hope  your  little 
boy  is  better.'" 

CONSIDERATE    COURTESY. 

Mr.  May  once  had  a  parishioner  who  was  so  offended 
with  him  on  account  of  his  preaching  in  behalf  of 
reforms,  that  he  would  not  listen  to  his  pastor,  but 
would  be  sure  to  attend  church  if  he  knew  that 


CHARACTERISTICS,  233 

another  minister  would  officiate.  As  soon  as  Mr.  May 
learned  how  this  man  felt  towards  him,  he  never  failed 
to  send  word  when  he  was  about  to  exchange,  so  that 

Mr. might   have   as   many   church   privileges   as 

he  would  accept. 

CONQUERED    WITH    KINDNESS. 

Mr.  May  once  preached  very  earnestly  in  his  church 
upon  some  doctrinal  topic;  and,  as  soon  as  he  pro 
nounced  the  benediction,  an  excited  man  began  to  lift 
up  his  voice  in  the  most  righteous  indignation  against 
the  soul-destroying  heresies  to  which  he  had  listened, 
and  to  reflect  quite  severely  upon  the  preacher.  Some 
of  the  people  were  provoked;  but  Mr.  May  begged 
them  to  give  their  respectful  attention,  and  urged  the 
protestant  to  come  forward  to  the  pulpit  where  he 
could  be  seen  and  heard  better,  assuring  him  that  he 
should  have  a  fair  chance.  He  started  full  of  zeal,  but 
when  he  went  up  the  steps,  and  took  the  outstretched 
hand  and  looked  into  the  beaming  face  of  his  oppo 
nent,  he  was  completely  disconcerted  ;  and,  after  a  few 
tame  words,  ended  by  thanking  Mr.  May  for  his  mani 
festation  of  brotherly  love. 

MORAL    POWER. 

Once  seeing  a  crowd  collected  around  two  men  who 
were  fighting  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  he  broke  the 
ring,  separated  the  men,  who  were  overawed  by  his 
presence,  told  the  dispersing  assembly  that  he  was 
ashamed  of  their  meanness  in  encouraging  their  broth 
ers  to  make  brutes  of  themselves,  and  received  the  con- 


234  «      LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

gratulations  of  an  Orthodox  minister  on  a  curbstone, 
who  said,  "  I  had  been  aching  to  interfere,  but  did  not 
know  just  where  to  take  hold." 

MEMORIES    OP    HIS    CHILDHOOD. 

"  He  told  me  he  could  remember  when  a  boy  being  in 
his  father's  office,  and  Chief  Justice  Parsons  came  in,  and 
asked  his  father  to  call  in  several  gentlemen,  naming  them; 
and  when  they  were  present,  he  asked  them  to  sit  down  and 
give  him  the  benefit  of  their  experience  and  common  sense 
in  making  up  judgments  in  cases  reserved  in  court  for  con 
sideration.  Then  he  took  from  his  green  bag  papers.  A.  B. 
had  come  into  such  and  such  relations  with  C.  D.,  and  there 
had  been  such  and  such  transactions,  and  such  and  such 
events  in  consequence.  What  was  justice  between  them? 
Several  cases  were  thus  submitted,  without  names  ;  and  the 
great  jurist  took  the  thought  and  conscience  of  his  business 
friends,  to  prepare  himself  for  his  great  work  upon  the  bench. 

"  Once,  he  said,  when  the  family  assembled  for  breakfast, 
his  father  came  in  from  his  usual  morning  walk,  and  said,  '  I 
have  seen  something  wonderfully  interesting  this  morning.  As 
I  passed  the  Old  Granary  burial-ground,  I  saw  that  the  tomb 
was  open,  in  which  I  knew  were  the  remains  of  James  Otis  ; 
and,  with  the  help  of  the  sexton,  I  opened  the  lid  of  Otis's 
coffin,  and  behold  the  coffin  was  full  of  the  fibrous  roots  of 
the  elm,  especially  thick  and  matted  about  the  skull;  and 
going  out  I  looked  up  at  the  noble,  verdant  elm,  and  there 
in  transfigured  glory  was  all  that  was  material  of  James 
Otis.'  G.  W.  HOSMKR." 

THE    PROPHET    OF    THE    EVERLASTING    COVENANT. 

"  In  the  winter  of  1816-17,  Mr.  May  taught  school  in  Con 
cord,  Mass.  It  was  his  senior  year  in  college.  One  cold 
Sunday  morning  we  all  were  assembled  in  church.  The  first 
bymn  had  been  read  and  sung,  and  Dr.  Riplcy  had  prayed. 
As  the  prayer  closed,  the  front  door  was  opened,  and  a  large 


CHARACTERISTICS.  235 

man,  with  dignified,  benignant  bearing,  entered  the  church, 
and  went  to  the  pew  in  which  Mr.  May  was  standing  to 
receive  him.  It  was  Colonel  Joseph  May,  who  had  come 
from  Boston  to  Concord  to  worship  with  his  son.  He  might 
then  have  been  fifty-five  years  old;  his  black  hair  was  silvered 
a  little,  and  he  wore  that  morning  a  drab  kersey  overcoat, 
which  gracefully  set  off  his  manly  figure.  That  drab  over- 
oat  is  the  subject  of  my  story. 

"Twenty  years  ago,  the  ministers  along  the  line  of  the 
New  York  Central  Railway  knew  an  eccentric  man,  who 
-believed  that  he  was  sent  of  the  Lord,  and  he  styled  himself 
the  Prophet  of  the  Everlasting  Covenant.  Certainly  he  took 
no  purse  nor  shoes;  but  he  had,  alas!  he  had  script,  a  book 
in  manuscript,  which  he  wanted  the  ministers  to  read  and 
commend  to  a  publisher.  The  Prophet  haunted  Brother 
May  at  Syracuse,  in  whose  great  heart  he  found  room.  One 
cold  day  he  came,  shivering  in  his  scanty  attire,  and  asked 
Brother  May  to  lend  him  an  overcoat  for  the  day.  There 
was  no  overcoat  in  the  house  for  him,  it  was  said  ;  but  Mr. 
May  laid  his  hand  upon  this  dear  old  relic,  the  drab  coat  of 
his  father.  He  would  not  say, '  Corban,'  it  is  sacred  to  a  dead 
man's  memory,  when  a  living  man,  suffering  with  cold,  stood 
before  him;  and  so  he  lent  the  coat.  The  next  morning  the 
Prophet  came  again.  The  weather  was  intensely  cold,  and 
the  coat  was  so  comfortable  ;  and  the  Prophet  asked  for  it 
as  a  gift.  '  But,'  said  Mr.  May,  'it  was  my  father's  :  how 
can  I  part  with  it  ?  '  '  Ah ! '  said  the  Prophet, '  it  is  precious 
to  you ;  but  only  think  of  this  coat  of  your  father  .cherishing 
and  keeping  alive  the  Prophet  of  the  Everlasting  Covenant!' 
And  the  Prophet  got  the  coat.  G.  W.  HOSMER." 

A    TERROR    TO    EVIL-DOERS. 

'*  Belonging  to  my  Society,  in  Brooklyn,  was  a  very  worthy 
colored  family.  They  were  required  to  sit  in  the  negro  pew, 
which  was  as  far  back  from  the  rest  of  the  congregation  as  it 
could  be  placed.  Being  blessed  with  a  numerous  family,  aa 


236  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

the  children  grew  up  they  were  uncomfortably  crowded  in  that 
pew.  Our  church  occupied  the  old  meeting-house,  which  was 
somewhat  larger  than  we  needed,  so  that  the  congregation 
were  easily  accommodated  on  the  lower  floor.  Only  the 
choir  sat  in  the  gallery,  except  on  extraordinary  occasions.  I 
therefore  invited  my  colored  parishioners  to  occupy  one  of 
the  large,  front  pews  in  the  side  gallery.  They  hesitated 
some  time,  lest  their  doing  so  should  give  oifence.  But  I 
insisted  that  none  would  have  any  right  to  be  offended,  and 
at  length  persuaded  them  to  do  as  I  requested.  One  man 
was,  or  pretended  to  be,  much  offended.  He  said,  with  great 
warmth,  '  How  came  that  nigger  family  to  come  into  that 
front  pew?  '  '  Because,'  I  replied,  '  it  was  unoccupied:  they 
were  uncomfortably  crowded  in  the  pew  assigned  them, 
and  I  requested  them  to  remove.'  'Well,'  said  he,  'there 
are  many  hi  the  Society  besides  myself  who  will  not  consent 
to  their  sitting  there.'  '  Why?  '  I  asked.  '  They  are  always 
well  dressed,  well  behaved,  and  good-looking  withal.'  '  But,' 
said  he,  '  they  are  niggers,  and  niggers  should  be  kept  to  their 
place.'  I  argued  the  matter  with  him  till  I  saw  he  could  not 
be  moved,  and  he  repeated  the  declaration  that  they  should 
be  driven  back.  I  then  said,  with  great  earnestness,  '  Mr. 
A.  B.,  if  you  do  any  thing  or  say  any  thing  to  hurt  the  feel 
ings  of  that  worthy  family,  and  induce  them  to  return  to  the 
pew  which  you  know  is  not  large  enough  for  them,  so  sure  as 
your  name  is  A.  B.  and  my  name  is  S.  J.  M.,  the  first  time 
you  afterwards  appear  in  the  congregation  I  will  state  the 
facts  of  the  case  exactly  as  they  are,  and  administer  to  you 
as  severe  a  reproof  as  I  may  be  able  to  frame  in  words. '  This 
had  the  desired  effect.  My  colored  friends  retained  their  new 
seat."  —  Recollections,  p.  270. 


On  one  occasion,  Mr.  May  preached  in  his  searching 
and  faithful  manner  upon  the  subject  of  selling  rum; 


CHARACTERISTICS.  237 

and  the  sermon  created  a  good  deal  of  excitement  in 
the  parish.  A  few  days  afterward  there  met  him  in  the 
street  the  prominent  retail  dealer  of  the  village,  muoh 
disturbed  in  manner,  and  apparently  greatly  grieved, 
as  if  innocent,  and  as  if  injured  by  the  discourse  Mr. 
May  had  given.  •  In  his  hurried  way,  he  went  on  to 
speak  about  the  sermon,  and  to  tell  about  the  general 
or  universal  interest  it  had  awakened,  the  talk  it  was 
giving  rise  to,  and  the  strong  terms  of  censure  the  peo 
ple  were  using  about  the  rum-seller  in  correspondence 
with  the  language  heard  from  the  pulpit.  "  And,"  said 
the  unhappy  man,  in  deprecation  of  the  severity  with 
which  the  trade  had  been  handled,  "  they  say  you  mean 
me ! "  "  Well,"  said  Mr.  May,  to  the  great  amazement 
of  his  hearer,  "  I  did  mean  you ! " 

UNEXPECTED    GKATITUDE. 

After  Mr.  May  went  to  Syracuse  he  was  stopped  in 
the  street  in  New  York  city  one  day  by  an  apparent 
stranger,  who  begged  him  to  call  at  a  certain  place  of 
business,  and  receive  his  thanks  for  old  kindnesses. 
When  Mr.  May  called  at  this  prosperous  establishment, 
the  master  of  it  said :  "  When  I  was  a  boy,  and  had 
nobody  to  help  rne,  you  interested  yourself  in  my  be 
half,  and  got  me  a  good  place  in  a  store.  Thanks  to 
that  start,  I  have  made  my  own  way  in  the  world.' 
He  took  Mr.  May  to  his  house,  introduced  him  to  his 
family,  and  at  their  parting  pressed  a  roll  of  money  into 
his  hand. 


238 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


THE    LETTER    OF    INTRODUCTION. 

A  young  man  whom  Mr.  May  knew  and  loved,  a 
bright,  agreeable,  capable  fellow,  but  somewhat  inclined 
to  associate  with  dissipated  companions,  asked  his  min 
ister  for  a  letter  of  introduction  to  the  father  of  a  young 
woman  in  whom  he  had  become  deeply  interested.  Mr. 
May  immediately  granted  the  request,  and  prepared  a 
note  in  which  he  spoke  in  the  highest  terms  of  his 
young  friend,  and  added  that,  if  he  manfully  overcame 
his  temptation  to  indulge  in  doubtful  associations,  he 
would  be  a  most  desirable  companion  and  friend.  He 
gave  the  letter  to  the  young  man,  unsealed,  saying, 
"You  can  read  it,  if  you  please."  We  do  not  know 
that  it  was  ever  delivered ;  but  we  have  heard  that  the 
parties  were  happily  married,  and  that  Mr.  May  did 
not  lose  the  fondest  regard  of  the  young  man  with 
whom  he  had  dealt  so  directly. 

CANDOR   AT   FUNERALS. 

Mr.  May  was  sometimes  sent  for  to  attend  funerals 
when  persons  had  died  under  discreditable  circum 
stances,  including  cases  of  delirium  tremens.  It  was 
known  that  he  was  merciful,  and  a  believer  in  the 
final  reformation  of  all  mankind.  It  was  his  general 
rule,  however,  to  refuse  to  officiate  upon  such  occa 
sions  unless  he  should  be  left  entirely  free  to  speak 
of  the  awful  warning  suggested  by  the  sad  close  of  an 
evil  life.  His  manner  was  tender,  but  indescribably 
solemn;  and  the  impressions  made  by  such  services 
were  wide-spread  and  lasting. 


CHA  RA  CTER1STLCS. 


239 


THE    RIGHT    AND    THE    EXPEDIENT. 

Colonel  Higginson  remembers  Mr.  May's  telling  Vim 
about  a  passage-at-arms  with  Horace  Mann.  Mr.  Mann 
said,  "  I  hate  your  doctrine  that  we  should  think  only 
of  the  right,  and  not  at  all  of  the  expedient."  "And  £ 
hate  your  doctrine,"  retorted  Mr.  May,  "that  we  should 
think  of  the  expedient,  and  not  only  of  the  right." 

MAY    AND    JUNE. 

While  Mr.  May  was  once  riding  late  in  the  afternoon, 
his  horse  lost  a  shoe,  several  miles  from  a  convenient  stop 
ping  place.  Passing  by  a  blacksmith's  shop,  he  stopped, 
and  asked  the  smith  whether  he  would  set  the  shoe. 
As  he  was  just  shutting  up  his  shop,  he  declined  doing 
it.  Mr.  May  urged  him,  saying,  among  other  things, 
"  I  was  in  hopes  that  the  consideration  of  our  relation 
ship  might  induce  you  to  oblige  me."  "  How  relation 
ship?  How  am  I  related  to  you?"  "Why,  I  see  by 
your  sign  that  your  name  is  June.  My  name^  is  May. 
Are  not  May  and  June  nearly  related?"  The  man 
laughed,  saying,  "  Doubtless  they  are ;  so  I  suppose  I 
ought  to  do  your  job  for  you."  Whereupon  he  put  on 
his  apron,  and  set  himself  to  the  work.  While  he  was 
engaged  in  it,  Mr.  May  entertained  him,  in  his  usual 
way,  with  anecdotes  and  conversation,  and  so  pleased 
him  that  he  not  only  would  receive  no  pay,  but  said  he 
should  be  glad  to  shoe  the  horse  "  all  'round." 

TOO   MANY   FRIENDS. 

In  1857,  Mr.  May  wrote  to  Horace  Mann:  — 


240  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

"I  am  vexed,  without  any  abatement  of  my  vexation, 
whenever  I  think  of  my  failure  to  see  you  during  my  visit  to 
Massachusetts  friends.  But  when  I  go  to  spend  a  few  days 
in  Boston  I  am  like  the  boy  who  got  his  hand  into  a  narrow- 
necked  jar  of  filberts,  and  filled  his  hand  so  full  of  nuts  that 
he  could  not  get  it  out  of  the  bottle.  I  undertake  to  do  so 
much  that  I  do  nothing,  or  nothing  well." 

MR.    MAY    AND    DK.    LYMAN    BEECHEB. 

We  are  indebted  to  James  Freeman  Clarke  for  the 
following  anecdote :  — 

"  Mr.  May  sent  a  note  to  his  friend,  Rev.  Thomas  K. 
Beecher,  of  Elmira,  N.Y.,  telling  him  that  he  knew  that 
the  Beechers  were  afraid  of  nothing,  but  that  he  now  was 
about  to  give  his  courage  a  pretty  severe  trial.  *  I  invite  you 
to  exchange  with  me,  who  am  a  Non-Resistant,  Woman's 
Rights,  Anti-Capital  Punishment,  Garrisonian  Abolitionist.' 
To  which  Mr.  Beecher  replied  :  '  Pooh-pooh !  that  is  nothing. 
Come  and  exchange ! '  Mr.  May  went  and  preached.  Dr. 
Lyman  Beecher,  whose  noble  intellect  was  then  giving  way 
to  age  and  infirmity,  was  staying  with  his  son,  and  went  to 
hear  Mr.  May  preach.  When  he  came  home  he  said  :  '  Mr. 
May,  if  I  understood  your  discourse  correctly,  and  I  think  I 
did,  for  I  paid  strict  attention,  I  liked  it  well.  I  under 
stood  you  to  say  that  you  expected  to  be  saved  by  the  merits 
of  Jesus  Christ!'  '  Oh,  no!  Dr.  Beecher,'  said  Mr.  May,  '  I 
do  not  believe  that  any  other  person's  merits  will  ever  help 
me  to  salvation.  I  must  be  saved  by  my  own  character,  if  I 
am  saved  at  all.'  At  this  Dr.  Beecher  was  displeased,  and 
answered,  *  Then  I  did  not  like  your  sermon  at  all.'  After 
a  while  he  added,  '  Do  you  think  it  right,  or  gentlemanly,  or 
Christian,  to  go  into  another  man's  pulpit,  and  try  to  destroy 
the  work  he  has  been  doing?  '  '  No,  Dr.  Beecher,'  said  Mr. 
May,  *  I  do  not,  and  I  never  do  any  such  thing. '  '  You  did 
it  this  morning,'  said  the  old  man,  and  walked  away.  Bat 


CHARACTERISTICS.  241 

when  evening  came,  Dr.  Beecher  forgot  his  anger,  and  talked 
a  long  time  with  Mr.  May  on  those  subjects  wherein  they 
agreed,  as  temperance,  education,  and  the  like.  And  at  the 
close  of  the  conversation,  subdued,  as  all  others  were,  by  the 
fascination  of  the  honesty,  sweetness,  truthfulness,  and  kind 
ness  of  this  remarkable  man,  Dr.  Beecher  said,  on  taking  his 
bed-light  to  retire,  '  Well,  Mr.  May,  I  shan't  see  you  to-mor 
row  morning.  I'll  bid  you  good-by  now.  I  do  like  you, 
after  all.'  " 

A    STRANGE    BEQUEST. 

Mr.  May  was  so  brotherly  towards  all  his  fellow-men 
that  the  humblest  persons  felt  perfectly  sure  of  his  sym 
pathy,  and  approached  him  with  such  faith  and  freedom 
as  are  seldom  inspired. 

He  befriended  a  poor  woman  and  her  daughter.  The 
latter  was  an  invalid,  and,  while  her  mother  was  away  at 
her  work,  she  enjoyed  the  companionship  of  a  fine  cat. 
One  day  Mr.  May  was  told  that  these  persons  had  called 
upon  him.  He  found  them  in  the  parlor.  The  mother 
had  a  basket  which  contained  something  that  was  nicely 
covered  with  a  white  towel.  Mr.  May's  first  thought 
was  that  they  had  brought  him  some  gift ;  but  he  soon 
noticed  that  they  were  very  sad.  When  he  asked  what 
troubled  them,  they  burst  into  tears,  and  told  him  that 
boys  in  their  neighborhood  had  set  dogs  on  the  cat, 
and  it  had  been  worried  to  death.  Mr.  May  expressed 
his  regret.  Then  the  mother  said  that  the  cat's  body 
was  in  the  basket,  and  they  had  brought  it  there  to  see 
if  it  could  be  buried  in  Mr.  May's  premises.  They  did 
not  own  their  house-lot,  and  they  feared  that  if  the  cat 
should  be  buried  there  it  would  be  dug  up  by  the  dogs. 
11  p 


242  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

"We  should  not  think  of  asking  such  a  favor  of  any 
body  else ;  but  we  thought  that,  perhaps,  you  would  do 
it  for  us."  Amused,  and  yet  touched  by  their  perfect 
confidence  in  his  good-will,  Mr.  May  said  to  the  mother, 
"  It  is  too  damp  for  your  daughter  to  go  into  the  gar 
den  until  every  thing  is  ready ;  but  if  you  will  come 
with  me  I  will  try  to  oblige  you."  They  selected  a  spot 
between  two  currant-bushes,  and  Mr.  May  took  a  spade 
and  made  a  grave  large  enough  to  contain  the  basket 
and  its  contents.  Then  he  went  for  the  daughter,  and 
escorted  her  to  the  place.  After  "  the  funeral,"  Mr. 
May  was  thanked  most  profusely,  and  the  women  re 
turned  home.  For  some  time  afterwards  the  ladies  of 
his  own  household  kept  threatening  to  put  this  sign  on 
the  front  gate  :  "  S.  J.  May,  Undertaker  for  Cats." 

GIVING   AND    TAKING   FRANKNESS. 

Mr.  May  was  often  invited  to  preach  in  "  evangeli 
cal"  churches;  but  instead  of  improving  the  opportunity 
to  show  that  he  was  almost  a  Methodist,  or  almost  a 
Presbyterian,  he  was  accustomed  to  say :  — 

"The  most  important  truths  are  those  which  relate  to 
religion,  and  the  best  kindness  we  can  show  to  each  other  is 
to  impart  our  highest  views  of  the  Divine  Character  and  of 
Human  Duty.  Therefore  I  shall  tell  you  to-day  what  I  be 
lieve  to  be  the  chief  doctrines  of  the  gospel ;  and  I  have  also 
brought  some  doctrinal  and  practical  tracts,  which  I  shall  be 
glad  to  have  you  take  at  the  close  of  the  service." 

Sometimes  he  invited  Orthodox  ministers  to  occupy 
his  pulpit,  and  he  encouraged  them  to  declare  unto  his 
people  the  whole  counsel  of  God,  as  they  understood  it. 


CHARA  CTERIST1 CS.  243 

"  Preach  not  what  you  think  Unitarians  wish  to  hear, 
but  what  you  think  they  need  to  hear." 

APPLAUDED    IN   CHUECH. 

A  distinguished  clergyman  was  in  Syracuse  conduct 
ing  revival  meetings.  He  was  announced  to  preach  on 
the  Justice  of  God  in  the  Eternal  Damnation  of  the 
Wicked.  Mr.  May  wished  to  hear  him,  and  gave  up 
his  own  evening  service,  urging  his  people  to  go  and 
ascertain  what  could  be  said  in  behalf  of  such  a  dread 
ful  doctrine.  In  the  course  of  his  sermon  the  preacher 
gave  a  frightful  picture  of  terrible  suffering.  The  suf 
ferer  after  millions  of  years  of  anguish  kept  exclaiming, 
"  How  long,  O  Lord !  how  long  ?  "  The  answer  kept 
coming  from  the  throne  of  an  inexorable  God,  "  Eter 
nally,  eternally ! "  After  the  service,  Mr.  May  met 
an  acquaintance  in  the  crowded  vestibule,  who  said, 
"  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  "  He  answered  in  a  very 
distinct  voice,  "  I  think  we  ought  to  ask  our  God, 
whose  mercy  endureth  for  ever,  to  pardon  us  for 
having  listened  in  silence  while  our  deluded  brother 
blasphemed  him."  The  next  Sunday  he  replied  to  the 
sermon,  telling  a  "  packed  "  audience  that  he  would 
rather  be  the  victim  of  such  infernal  cruelty  than  to 
inflict  it  upon  an  immortal  soul ;  for  such  a  God  was 
not  a  father,  but  a  fiend.  There  was  an  outburst  of 
loud  and  prolonged  applause. 

THE    POWER   OF   KINDNESS. 

At  the  time  when  Abby  Folsom  was  so  troublesome 
at  antislavery  conventions  that  sometimes  she  was  car* 


244  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Tied  out  of  the  house  on  account  of  her  violence,  Mr. 
May  was  to  preside  at  a  meeting  where  she  was  present. 
He  asked  Miss  Folsom  privately  if  she  thought  she 
would  be  moved  to  speak,  and  obtained  her  promise 
to  say  only  a  few  words.  When  she  began  there  was 
great  disturbance,  and  many  insisted  that  she  should 
not  be  heard.  Mr.  May  told  the  assembly  that  Miss 
Folsom  had  the  floor,  and  he  would  leave  the  chair  if 
she  was  not  sustained  in  her  right  to  speak ;  adding, "  I 
have  promised  her  that  she  shall  be  heard,  and  she  has 
promised  me  that  she  will  be  very  brief."  This  restored 
order ;  and,  after  uttering  a  few  sentences,  Miss  Folsom 
resumed  her  seat,  very  calm  and  very  happy.  In  less 
time  than  it  would  have  taken  to  carry  her  out,  the 
business  of  the  hour  was  resumed. 

.POLITICAL    PREACHING. 

During  the  Mexican  War,  a  Democrat  in  Mr.  May's 
congregation  met  him  in  the  street,  and  said :  "  Some 
of  us  do  not  like  what  you  have  said  of  public  affairs. 
We  are  very  much  displeased  with  you."  Mr.  May 
answered :  "•  It  is  not  the  business  of  the  minister  to 
please  the  people,  but  to  tell  them  what  he  thinks  they 
ought  to  hear,  whether  it  pleases  them  or  not.  I  must 
preach  to  satisfy  my  conscience,  not  to  gratify  your 
tastes."  The  gentleman  said  it  was  an  entirely  new  view 
of  the  subject,  and  he  never  complained  afterwards. 

HOW    TO    TURN   AWAY   WRATH. 

Mr.  May  had  a  parishioner  of  intemperate  habits, 
who  was  such  a  trial  to  his  poor  wife  that  the  good 


CHARACTERISTICS.  245 

woman  went  to  her  pastor  and  asked  him,  in  her  dis 
tress,  if  he  thought  it  would  be  wrong  to  put  an 
emetic  in  her  husband's  decanter,  so  as  to  give  him 
a  disrelish  for  spirituous  liquors.  Mr.  May  probably 
thought  that  the  experiment  might  be  worth  trying ; 
at  all  events,  he  did  not  tell  the  woman  that  it  would 
be  very  sinful.  She  tried  it;  but  the  man  became  so  ill 
that,  in  her  fear,  she  made  a  full  confession,  even  impli 
cating  Mr.  May  slightly.  This  infuriated  her  husband, 
who  seldom  met  "the  minister"  afterwards  without 
pouring  out  his  hatred  in  the  strongest  terms.  He 
would  not  listen  to  one  word  of  explanation  or  expos 
tulation  on  the  part  of  his  imagined  enemy,  who  waited 
patiently  for  an  opportunity  to  reassure  him  of  his  love. 
Once,  when  Mrs.  May  had  been  quite  sick,  she  went 
to  ride  with  her  husband,  and  they  drove  past  the 
house  of  the  intemperate  man,  wTho  was  working  in 
his  garden,  in  which  he  took  great  pride.  Mrs.  May 
coveted  some  of  the  fine  melons,  but  thought  she  knew 
it  would  be  a  hopeless  request  if  she  should  ask  for 
one ;  yet  Mr.  May  said, "  I  will  see."  So  he  guided  the 
horse  up  to  the  fence ;  but  the  man  had  noticed  their 
approach,  and  turned  his  back,  while  he  bent  over  hii 
work  more  diligently  than  before.  Very  soon  a  voice, 
so  free  from  passion  that  he  could  hardly  believe  it 
came  from  the  lips  of  one  whom  he  had  so  often  and 
so  shamefully  abused,  said  to  him,  in  the  kindest  tones : 
"  I  have  come  to  ask  a  great  favor  at  your  hands.  If 
you  will  give  me  a  melon  for  my  sick  wife,  I  will  thank 
you.  She  has  a  great  craving  for  melons.  I  know 


246  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

you  have  the  best  in  town.  Will  you  give  me  one  for 
her?"  The  man  was  silent  for  some  time,  evidently 
struggling  with  himself.  He  had  wanted  to  denounce 
Mr.  May  when  he  saw  him  approaching;  but  he  was 
large-hearted,  after  all,  and  this  direct  appeal  to  his 
magnanimity  thrilled  him  and  subdued  him.  At  last 
he  said,  gently,  "  I  will  bring  some  up  to  your  house." 
"  Oh,  don't  put  yourself  to  so  much  trouble.  We  can 
take  them  in  the  carriage."  "  I  prefer  to  bring  them." 
He  soon  appeared  at  the  manse  with  the  best  of  every 
thing  that  his  garden  produced,  refused  all  compensa 
tion,  was  at  once  reconciled  to  Mr.  May,  and  grate 
fully  accepted  his  assistance  in  overcoming  his  bad 
habit ;  afterwards  regaining  much  of  his  former  good 
standing. 

THE    FAMILY    PLEDGE. 

In  one  of  his  New  England  parishes,  Mr.  May  of 
fended  an  intemperate  man  by  the  plainness  of  his 
temperance  preaching.  The  kindest  treatment  on  the 
part  of  his  minister  could  not  make  him  yield.  But 
when  Mr.  May  was  about  to  leave  the  place,  he  was 
rewarded  for  all  his  efforts  and  forbearance.  The  man 
asked  him  to  come  to  his  house  at  a  certain  time. 
When  Mr.  May  got  there,  he  found  that  a  neat  pledge 
had  been  prepared,  with  a  tasteful  frame,  and  room  for 
all  the  family  names.  The  man,  explaining  his  deter 
mination,  requested  Mr.  May  first  to  offer  prayer,  which 
he  did  fervently.  Then  the  father  and  mother  signed 
first,  of  course,  and  then  the  children,  in  the  order  of 


CHARACTERISTICS.  247 

their  ages.  The  last  was  the  baby,  the  father  guiding  the 
infant's  fingers  until  its  name  was  legibly  traced.  Then 
Mr.  May  most  gladly  appended  his  own  name,  as  the 
witness  of  all. 

HIS   LOVE    OF    CHILDREN. 

He  never  passed  a  child  without  a  pleasant  word. 
There  was  a  magnetism  about  him  which  drew  them  to 
him.  A  friend,  who  was  at  the  head  of  a  large  Reform 
School,  says  that  whenever  Mr.  May  visited  him,  which 
he  sometimes  did  for  several  days,  the  boys  all  seemed 
to  be  acquainted  with  him  at  once.  "  They  crowded 
right  round  him  when  he  came  into  the  play-ground, 
and  were  good  boys,  so  long  as  he  was  among  them  at 
least.  He  did  not  lecture  them,  but  showed  them 
something  new  about  their  games,  and  took  a  little 
part  in  them." 

Wishing  to  do  the  children  of  the  "May  School" 
some  particular  favor,  as  a  mark  of  his  appreciation  of 
its  name,  he  sent  to  Boston  for  a  foot-ball ;  and  a  visitor 
at  his  house  reports  his  setting  off  with  the  ball,  and 
that,  lame  as  he  was,  he  went  into  the  yard,  taught  the 
boys  the  rules  of  the  game,  and  how  to  kick,  entering 
into  their  first  essays  with  the  greatest  merriment. 

HIS    GENIALITY. 

As  he  moved  through  the  streets,  almost  every  person 
knew  him ;  but,  whether  acquainted  or  not,  he  scarcely 
ever  passed  an  individual  without  some  kind  of  saluta 
tion.  "  I  can't  bear  to  go  by  and  look  as  if  I  did  not 


248  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

recognize  a  man's  existence.  It  seems  churlish.  I  bow 
to  his  humanity,"  he  said.  A  gentleman  who  walked 
with  him  in  Syracuse  said,  "  Mr.  May,  I  should  think 
your  head  would  be  tired  nodding." 

THE  IDEAL  AND  THE  ACTUAL. 

Twelve  or  fourteen  years  ago,  Mr.  May  attended  a 
meeting  of  the  Western  Conference  at  Alton.  He  met 
several  Missourians,  who  saw  him  for  the  first  time, 
and  were  won  by  his  unmistakable  sweetness  of  tem 
per,  even  when  engaged  in  the  discussion  of  the  slavery 
question.  A  lady  who  had  known  and  loved  Mr.  May 
from  her  childhood  was  much  amused  when  a  gentle 
man  from  St.  Louis  said  to  her :  "  What  a  change  has 
come  over  Mr.  May !  His  voice  has  lost  its  harshness, 
and  his  face  has  no  longer  a  fierce  expression." 

ASHAMED    TO    DIE. 

On  a  certain  Sunday,  about  ten  years  ago,  Mr.  May 
preached  very  acceptably  in  the  morning,  and  a  sec 
ond  service  was  announced  for  the  afternoon.  But  at 
dinner  his  hostess  persuaded  him  to  eat  a  piece  of  her 
delicious  mince  pie,  and  he  was  soon  so  ill  that  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  preach  again.  Indeed,  he  suffered 
so  much  that  his  friends  became  alarmed,  and  sent  for 
a  physician.  The  doctor  came,  and  found  his  patient 
in  great  pain.  Instead  of  being  utterly  doleful,  how 
ever,  Mr.  May  looked  up  in  his  archest  manner,  and 
said,  "  Doctor,  I  am  not  afraid  to  die,  but  I  am  ashamed 
to  die." 


CHARACTERISTICS.  249 


One  day  Mr.  May  found  two  stern-looking  women  at 
his  front  door.  He  invited  them  to  walk  in,  with  his 
usual  cordiality ;  but  they  said,  as  if  doubting  their  wel 
come,  "  We  have  come  to  you  with  a  message  from  the 
Lord."  "  Then  you  must  come  in,  for  there  is  no  one 
from  whom  I  should  be  so  glad  to  hear."  After  they 
were  seated  there  was  a  long  pause ;  but  at  last  one  of 
them  said,  "  Mr.  May,  we  have  heard  that  you  do  not 
believe  in  the  divinity  of  Jesus  Christ."  "  You  did  not 
hear  that  from  the  Lord,  for  the  Lord  knows  I  do." 

A    MERITED    REPROOF. 

Mr.  May  was  present  at  a  High  School  Exhibition, 
and  being  shocked  by  some  of  the  performances  he 
addressed  the  teacher  in  the  columns  of  a  daily  paper, 
as  follows :  — 

SYRACUSE,  Dec.  24,  1859. 
MR. . 

DEAR  SIR, — I  am  very  reluctant  to  censure  any  thing 
that  you  have  advised  or  permitted.  But  the  offence  com 
mitted  last  evening,  at  the  Exhibition  of  your  High  School, 
was  too  grave  to  be  passed  over  in  silence,  and  too  public 
to  be  reproved  only  privately.  For  half  an  hour  or  more, 
your  audience  of  two  thousand  persons,  many  of  them 
young,  were  kept  laughing  at  a  very  gross  and  immoral 
farce,  all  the  more  mischievous  because  so  well  performed. 
A  lying  knave,  pretending  to  be  a  mesmeric  doctor,  in  agree 
ment  with  a  foolish,  naughty  boy,  practises  upon  the  fears 
and  the  credulity  of  an  old,  doting  father,  in  order  to  defeat 
his  plan  of  sending  the  graceless  youngster  to  a  boarding- 
school. 
11* 


250  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

I  cannot  imagine  a  worse  lesson  that  you  could  have  given 
the  rising  generation  ;  a  lesson  in  trickery,  lying,  and  filial 
impiety.  There  is  already  in  our  country  so  little  reverence 
for  age,  and  respect  for  parental  authority,  that  an  audience 
of  our  people  is  the  last  in  the  world  before  which  such  a  farce 
should  be  introduced  for  the  sake  of  fun. 

A  word  to  the  wise  is  sufficient.  I  know  you  will  see  and 
acknowledge  the  worse  than  impropriety  of  which  you  have 
allowed  your  pupils  to  be  guilty,  and  am  sure  nothing  of 
the  kind  will  again  occur  at  the  exhibition  of  our  High 
School.  Every  true  parent  and  good  citizen  must  disapprove 
of  it  as  much  as  I  do. 

Sincerely  your  friend,  S.  J.  MAY. 

A   DEATH-BED    REPENTANCE. 

To  be  at  Peace  with  God  we  must  be  at  Peace  with  our  Fellow-men. 

"  A  few  years  after  I  had  entered  the  ministry,  I  was 
summoned  to  the  house  of  old  Mr.  B.,  a  dying  man,  who 
was  said  to  be  in  great  distress  of  mind.  I  had  no  experience 
in  such  cases,  and  was  therefore  not  a  little  distressed  in  my 
own  mind  to  know  how  I  ought  to  deal  with  him.  I  was 
but  little  acquainted  w7ith  Mr.  B.  He  was  reported  to  be 
a  strictly  honest  man,  but  ill-tempered,  irascible,  and  very 
jealous  of  his  rights,  and  therefore  always  in  a  quarrel  with 
some  of  his  neighbors,  or  with  those  for  whom  he  worked. 
As  I  walked  to  his  house,  I  earnestly  bethought  me  what  I 
should  say  to  him.  I  inwardly  prayed  for  help  ;  and  the 
Comforter,  the  spirit  of  truth,  came  to  my  assistance.  I 
resolved  to  deal  frankly  with  him  and  tell  him  that  his  faults 
of  temper  were  undoubtedly  the  source  of  his  misery. 

"  On  approaching  his  humble  dwelling,  I  heard  his  groans 
and  outcries  for  mercy.  His  daughter  met  me  in  the  yard, 
and  told  me  that  he  had  lain  all  night  thus  bemoaning  aloud 
his  lost  condition,  and  imploring  forgiveness.  . 

"  As  I  took  my  seat  by  his  bedside,  the  wretched  man 
gave  way  to  a  paroxysm  of  despair,  and  seized  my  hand  as  a 


CIIARA  CTERISTICS.  251 

drowning  man  grasps  any  thing  within  his  reach.  So  soon 
as  he  was  calm  enough  to  listen  I  said:  'Mr.  B.,  this 
is  all  wrong,  foolish,  a  waste  of  the  little  time  that  is 
probably  left  you.  God  is  not  well  pleased  with  groans 
and  shrieks  of  misery.  Your  unhappiness  is  owing  to  your 
faults  of  character,  and  the  sins  they  have  led  you  to  commit. 
I  am  told  that,  although  an  honest  man,  you  have  been  cross, 
quarrelsome,  and  at  times  very  abusive  in  your  language  to 
those  who  had,  or  who  you  thought  had,  injured  you.  Now 
you  cannot  be  at  peace  with  God,  until  you  are  at  peace  with 
men  ;  and  how  can  you  expect  or  with  any  propriety  ask 
him  to  forgive  you  if  you  are  cherishing  in  your  heart  resent 
ment  and  ill-will  towards  those  whom  you  consider  your 
enemies.  I  do  not  think,  Mr.  B.,  you  will  die  to-day  or 
to-morrow  :  the  doctor  says  you  may  live  a  week  or  more. 
Instead,  therefore,  of  wasting  your  time,  and  disturbing 
your  family  by  your  groans  and  outcries,  let  me  advise  you 
to  set  about  forgiving  those  who  have  injured  you,  and  ask 
ing  the  pardon  of  such  as  you  have  injured.' 

"  The  old  man  recovered  himself,  and  went  on  awhile 
recounting  the  wrongs  that  had  been  done  him  by  one, 
another,  and  another.  '  Well,'  said  I,  '  Mr.  B.,  for  all  these 
things  they  are  accountable,  and  of  them  they  must  repent, 
or  suffer  the  consequences.  If  they  are  really  as  bad  as  you 
have  described  them,  I  should  think  you  would  pity  them, 
and  pray  for  their  repentance  and  forgiveness.  But  it  is 
your  especial  duty  to  think  rather  of  the  wrong  you  may 
have  done  to  them  in  your  anger  ;  be  sorry  for  that,  and 
sincerely  ask  their  pardon.  Unburden  your  conscience,  as 
far  as  you  may,  of  the  load  that  is  upon  it ;  make  all  the 
amends  you  can  for  the  injury  you  have  done  to  oihers  in 
deed,  word,  or  thought,  and  leave  them,  as  you  must,  to 
take  care  of  their  own  accounts  wTith  the  Impartial  Judge.' 
Mr.  B.  was  much  affected  by  my  plain  dealing,  and  soon 
made  confession  of  many  things  that  he  knew  had  not  been 
right  in  his  treatment  of  those  who  had  offended  him  ;  and 


252 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


at  last  said :  *  Yes,  I  ought  to.  I  will  forgive  all  my  enemies, 
and  ask  them  to  forgive  me,  all  excepting  Captain  W.  It 
seems  as  if  I  could  not  forgive  him,  he  has  so  often  wronged 
and  abused  me.  I  am  afraid  I  should  not  forgive  him  if  I 
said  I  did.  And  I  know  not  how  I  can  ask  his  pardon,  while 
I  feel  he  has  treated  me  so  much  worse  than  I  ever  treated 
him.'  'Ah  !  Mr.  B.,'  I  replied,  'Captain  W.  is  the  very 
one  of  all  others  with  whom  you  must  seek  to  be  recon 
ciled,  for  he  is  the  one  with  whom  it  seems  that  you  are  most 
at  enmity.  Don't  die,  I  pray,  until  you  have  forgiven  him, 
and  have  been  forgiven  by  him.  I  suppose  the  Captain  is  a 
hard,  overbearing  man.  It  is  very  probable  that  he  has  been 
unkind,  ungenerous,  unjust  towards  you.  But  that  is  his 
concern.  He  must  answer  for  that.  You  have  only  to  make 
amends  for  the  wrongs  you  have  done  him.  And  if  he  sees 
that  you  are  truly  penitent,  very  probably  his  heart  may  be 
touched.  He  may  be  made  conscious  of  his  trespasses  against 
you,  and  not  only  forgive,  but  ask  to  be  forgiven.  But 
whether  the  Captain  shall  be  brought  to  a  right  state  of 
heart  or  not,  see  to  it  that  you  do  the  work  that  is  meet  for 
the  repentance  required  of  you.  Recall  to  your  remem 
brance  the  harsh  language  you  have  used,  the  abusive,  pro 
fanely  abusive,  epithets  you  have  sometimes  heaped  upon 
him  ;  and  confess  to  him  that  nothing  should  have  provoked 
you  so  to  injure  him  and  oifend  God.' 

"Mr.  B.  was  still  more  affected  by  my  earnest  appeal. 
Tears  flowed  freely  down  his  rough  cheeks.  His  bosom 
heaved  with  emotion.  He  covered  his  face.  Presently  he 
cried,  '  Oh  !  pray  with  me,  pray  that  I  may  have  help  ! ' 
I  did  pray  fervently,  for  I  felt  deeply.  I  prayed  that  if  the 
course  I  had  marked  out  for  the  poor,  unhappy,  dying  man 
was  indeed  the  right  one,  he  might  be  spared,  guided,  and 
strengthened  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to  pursue  it. 

"  A  day  or  two  after  the  above  interview,  I  was  told  that 
a  marked  change  had  come  over  Mr.  B.  He  had  ceased 
from  his  groanings,  had  become  more  considerate  of  hia 


CHARA  CTER1STI CS. 


253 


family,  and  of  all  who  came  to  assist  in  nursing  him.  He 
was  tender  and  affectionate,  and  often  rapt  in  silent  prayer. 
I  was  told  he  had  sent  for  one  and  another  of  his  neighbors 
and  others  with  whom  he  had  quarrelled,  and  made  very 
humble  confessions,  and  asked  their  forgiveness.  Moreover 
it  was  said  his  penitence  had  melted  the  hearts  of  several 
who  had  done  him  wrong  ;  and  that  his  sick-room  had  beeu 
the  scene  of  mutual  acknowledgments  and  touching  expres 
sions  of  mutual  forgiveness. 

"  Before  a  week  had  quite  passed,  I  went  again  to  see  him 
No  outcries  or  groans  saluted  me  as  before  on  drawing  near 
to  his  house.  Quietness  reigned  around  it.  As  I  entered 
his  room,  the  sweetest  smile  I  had  ever  seen  upon  his  face 
greeted  me.  He  eagerly  stretched  out  to  me  his  trembling 
hand,  and  with  tears  of  joy,  which  words  could  not  express, 
he  said  :  «  O  Mr.  May  !  I  have  done  as  you  advised  me,  and  I 
have  found  peace,  sweet  peace  of  mind.  I  sent  for  Mr.  A. 
and  Mr.  D.  and  Mr.  G.  Others  came,  on  hearing  that  I 
wished  to  see  all  with  whom  I  had  quarrelled.  Each  one 
has  spoken  kindly  to  me.  Each  one  has  assured  me  of  his 
forgiveness.  Some  have  made  apologies  for  my  violence, 
more  than  I  could  have  made  myself  ;  and  most  of  them  have 
confessed  that  they  too  had  done  me  wrong,  and  begged 
my  pardon.  I  have  had  a  happy  week  !  I  found  it  so  good 
to  forgive  and  be  forgiven,  that  I  felt  last  Tuesday  as  if  I 
must  see  Captain  W.  He  came,  and  it  was  the  best  of 
all.  I  told  him  I  was  unwilling  to  die  without  having  con 
fessed  to  him  how  sorry  I  was  that  we  had  quarrelled  so 
much  ;  how  ashamed  that  I  had  so  often  abused  him  ;  and 
that  I  hoped  he  would  forgive  me.  And,  what  do  you 
think,  Mr.  May,  the  Captain  would  hardly  wait  for  me  to 
finish  what  I  was  saying  before  he  took  my  hand  and  replied  : 
"  Mr.  B.,  you  have  as  much  to  forgive  as  I  have.  We  have 
treated  each  other  badly.  I  have  been  in  some  respects  much 
more  to  blame  than  you  have.  I  am  glad  you  sent  for  me. 
I  beg  you  to  forgive  me,  as  I  do  you  heartily.  And  I  pray 


254  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

God  to  forgive  both  of  us."  His  manner  was  very  tender. 
He  wept  while  he  was  speaking.  I  never  knew  the  Captain 
had  so  much  kindness.' 

"After  resting  a  little  while,  the  dying  man  resumed: 
*  O  Mr.  May!  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  better  I  feel  ;  such 
a  load  removed  from  my  heart.  I  have  forgiven  my  enemies, 
and  they  have  forgiven  me.  I  have  more  hope  now  that  God 
will  be  merciful  to  me.  I  am  not  so  afraid  to  die.'  " 

SLEEPING    WITH    A    MADMAN. 

Mr.  May's  temperament,  into  which  entered  so  largely 
firmness  and  gentleness  and  sympathy,  and  his  great 
personal  courage,  adapted  him  peculiarly  to  deal  with 
the  insane,  over  whom  he  always  exercised  a  singular 
influence. 

When  quite  a  young  man  his  character  was  put 
to  a  severe  test,  as  the  following  anecdote  shows. 
Near  his  father's  house  lived  a  highly  respectable 
family,  of  whom  the  husband  and  father  was  subject 
to  periodical  insanity,  which  at  times  amounted  to 
maniacal  fury.  At  such  times  his  wife  and  children 
lost  all  control  of  him,  and  were  often  obliged  to  re 
treat  to  remote  parts  of  the  house,  and  lock  themselves 
in.  Mr.  May,  of  whom  the  gentleman  was  very  fond 
when  in  his  right  mind,  was  one  evening  informed  by 
a  messenger  that  he  was  in  one  of  his  fits  of  insanity, 
and  that  the  family  were  helpless,  and  locked  into  the 
attic.  He  hastened  over  to  their  home,  and  found  the 
maniac  in  full  possession,  roaming  furiously  through 
the  rooms,  mixing  complaints  of  his  family  for  desert 
ing  him  with  threats  of  violence  against  them.  Mr. 


CHAR  A  CTERIST1 CS.  255 

May  succeeded  in  calming  him,  and  urged  him  to  go 
to  bed  and  try  to  sleep. 

"How  can  I  sleep,  Sam?"  said  the  poor  man,  pa 
thetically.  "  My  wife  and  children  have  hidden  away  ; 
and  I  am  so  lonesome,  I  couldn't  sleep  if  I  went  to 
Led."  "  Do  try,"  urged  Mr.  May.  "  Will  you  go  and 
sleep  with  me,  Sam?"  "Of  course  I  will,"  was  the 
prompt  response :  "  only  you  must  promise  me  you 
will  keep  quiet,  and  not  get  up  till  morning."  "  I  will 

promise."  "  Give  me  your  word  of  honor,  Mr. ." 

"  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor,  Sam,  I  won't  get  up 
till  morning." 

Mr.  May  kept  his  part  of  this  strange  compact,  and 
actually  went  to  rest  in  the  same  bed  with  the  lunatic, 
and  fell  asleep.  During  the  night,  however,  he  awoke, 
and  found  his  companion  gone.  He  arose  instantly,  and 
in  his  night-clothes  set  out  to  find  him.  Groping 
his  way  downstairs,  he  discovered  him  in  the  dining- 
room,  evidently  excited  again,  and  engaged  in  whetting 
the  carving-knife  upon  its  steel.  Mr.  May,  who  knew 
that  his  characteristic  trait  was  truthfulness  and  pride 
in  his  honor  as  a  gentleman,  advanced  immediately  to 
him,  and  sternly  said :  — 

"  Mr. ,  I  thought  you  were  a  man  of  your  word!" 

"  And  who  says  I  am  not  a  man  of  my  word  ?  "  roared 
out  the  madman,  starting  up  to  confront  him.  "I  say 
so !  "  said  Mr.  May,  boldly.  "  You  have  just  broken 
your  word  to  me.  You  promised  on  your  honor  that 
you  would  stay  abed  till  morning ;  and  here  you  are 
downstairs  in  the  middle  of  the  nio;ht." 


256  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

The  right  chord  was  touched.  The  poor  lunatic 
melted  at  once.  " Did  I,  Sam?"  he  quietly  answered ; 
"  then  I  forgot  it.  Oh,  forgive  me  !  my  head  is  in  such 
a  whirl !  "  He  consented  to  return,  and  they  actually 
resumed  their  partnership  of  the  bed.  In  the  morning 
reason  had  in  some  measure  returned ;  and  Mr.  May,  on 
awaking,  found  his  companion  dressed,  and  somewhat 
sadly  waiting  for  him  to  arouse. 

KEEPING   HIS    PROMISE    TO    A   LUNATIC. 

Another  instance  of  his  resolution  was  his  treatment 
of  a  gentleman  of  Syracuse,  who,  though  not  of  his 
parish,  had  such  implicit  confidence  in  his  fidelity  and 
courage  that  he  intrusted  to  him  the  secret  of  a  con 
scious  tendency  to  insanity,  which  he  feared  he  could 
not  permanently  control.  "  I  want  you  to  promise  me 
solemnly,  Mr.  May,  that  if  it  comes  to  that,  and  you 
hear  that  I  have  lost  my  reason,  you  will  come  here 
and  take  me,  whether  I  consent  or  not,  and  carry  me 
to  the  Utica  asylum."  Finding  him  in  earnest,  Mr. 
May  gave  his  pledge  as  requested.  Some  years  elapsed. 
At  length  a  severe  affliction  developed  the  dreaded 
tendency.  Mr.  May,  hearing  that  the  gentleman  had 
lost  his  reason,  took  a  carnage  and  drove  to  his  door, 
and  going  in  told  him  he  had  come,  as  agreed,  to  carry 
him  to  the  asylum.  The  lunatic  refused,  and  became 
somewhat  furious.  Mr.  May  pleaded  with  him  to  con 
sent,  urging  the  superior  treatment  he  would  receive, 
and  the  danger  to  his  family,  should  he  be  allowed  to 
stay  at  home.  At  length,  finding  ho  would  not  yield, 


CHARA  CTERtSTICS.  257 

he  said :  "  Mr. ,  I  am  here  by  agreement  with  your 
self.  You  asked  me  to  come,  and,  whether  you  con 
sented  or  not,  take  you  to  the  asylum,  if  ever  you 
became  insane.  I  promised  to  do  so,  and  I  shall  cer 
tainly  keep  my  promise.  I  shall  have  to  do  it  by  force 
if  you  will  not  go  voluntarily.  Now  do  not  distress  us 
all  by  resisting ;  but  come,  as  I  ask  you  to."  Such  per 
suasions  induced  him  at  length  to  get  into  the  carriage. 
But,  arriving  at  the  depot,  the  old  spirit  of  insanity 
"revived,  and  he  began  to  protest  against  going  into  the 
cars.  Again  Mr.  May  said:  "  My  friend,  you  must.  It 
was  our  agreement.  I  should  have  to  have  you  carried 
in  if  you  refused  to  walk.  Now  come,  don't  make  a 
scene,  but  take  my  arm,  and  let  us  walk  in  together, 
and  let  no  one  see  there  is  any  thing  the  matter."  The 
lunatic  once  more  yielded,  and  they  arrived  at  the  asy 
lum  after  a  quiet  ride  of  two  or  three  hours. 


Some  years  ago  an  effort  having  been  made  by  citi 
zens  of  Syracuse  to  found  a  City  Hospital,  which  project 
failed  through  the  impracticability  of  obtaining  proper 
nurses  for  such  an  establishment,  Mr.  May  proposed 
at  the  meeting  in  which  this  conclusion  was  reached 
that  they  should  call  upon  the  Sisters  of  Charity  to 
undertake  the  work.  He  urged  their  well-known  skill 
and  devotion,  and  had  ascertained  that  they  would  take 
charge  of  a  hospital  and  conduct  it  on  strictly  non- 
sectarian  principles  so  far  as  the  admission  of  patients 
was  concerned.  The  anti-Catholic  sentiment,  however, 

Q 


258 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


proved  too  strong;  and  his  suggestion  was  finally  voted 
down,  to  his  great  disappointment,  by  a  decided  ma 
jority. 

Some  time  after  this  scheme  had  been  thus  abandoned 
in  despair,  there  arrived  in  the  city  two  or  three  Sisters 
of  Charity,  charged  with  the  duty  of  doing  what  the 
citizens  had  given  up.  They  began  practically,  hiring  a 
small  house,  and  putting  in  one  or  two  beds,  for  which 
occupants  were  readily  found.  At  the  same  time  they 
exerted  themselves  to  increase  the  extent  of  -their 
accommodations.  Hearing  of  Mr.  May's  action  in  the 
former  case,  they  called  on  him,  and  were  assured  of 
his  readiness  to  co-operate  with  them,  provided  they 
would  conduct  their  hospital  on  non-sectarian  princi 
ples.  They  agreed  to  this,  and  received  the  active 
assistance  of  Mr.  May  and  other  public-spirited  Prot 
estants  ;  the  effort  resulting  in  the  establishment  of  St. 
Mary's  Hospital.  It  now  contains  some  fifty  beds,  has 
an  efficient  corps  of  the  well-trained  and  devoted  Sisters 
as  nurses,  and  is  well  provided  with  all  needed  appur 
tenances.  It  is  partly  supported  by  the  city,  is  wholly 
free  to  all  patients  without  regard  to  religion,  and  is 
admirably  conducted.  Mr.  May  was  deeply  interested 
in  its  success.  He  became  well  acquainted  with  the 
Mother  Superior,  for  whose  ability  and  devotion  he 
entertained  the  highest  respect,  and  advised  cordially 
with  her  and  others  interested.  In  how  gratifying  a 
manner  his  sentiments  and  efforts  were  appreciated, 
we  take  great  pleasure  in  exhibiting  in  the  incident  we 
now  record. 


CHARACTERISTICS.  259 

The  hospital  being  well  under  way,  a  Fair  was  held 
for  its  benefit,  and  was  very  successful.  Many  Prot 
estants  attended,  but  by  far  the  largest  portion  of  its 
patrons  were  Roman  Catholics.  A  gold-headed  cane 
having  been  offered  to  be  given  by  vote  to  a  clergyman 
of  the  city,  it  was  actually  assigned  to  Mr.  May  by  a 
large  majority,  although  his  principal  rival  was  a  much- 
respected  Catholic  priest.  As  this  result  was  really 
determirtri  by  the  votes  of  the  Catholics,  the  event 
became  a  pleasing  instance  of  that  good-will  among 
Christians  which  Mr.  May  so  much  loved.  But  more 
was  to  follow.  It  was  arranged  to  present  the  cane  to 
him  publicly,  at  a  Festival  to  be  held  at  the  hospital, 
in  celebration  of  its  assured  establishment.  When  the 
evening  came  a  large  concourse  of  Catholics  and  Prot 
estants  filled  all  available  parts  of  the  building.  A 
prominent  Catholic  gentleman,  presenting  the  cane, 
addressed  Mr.  May  in  terms  which  it  would  be  gratify 
ing  to  reproduce  here,  warmly  acknowledging  his  inter 
est  in  the  undertaking  from  the  beginning,  and  offering 
him  grateful  assurances  of  the  respect  which  his  Catholic 
fellow-citizens  felt  for  him.  Mr.  May,  much  affected, 
accepted  the  gift,  responding  in  cordial  terms  to  the 
address  which  had  been  made ;  and  in  friendly  festiv 
ity  terminated  an  occasion  which  was,  perhaps,  unique 
in  the  relations  of  the  two  great  portions  of  the  Chris 
tian  Church. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
PERSONAL   TRAITS  AND   HOME  LIFE. 

PERSONAL  APPEARANCE. —MANNERS.  — His  MIRTHFULNESS.  — 
ENERGY.  —  FOOD. — TEMPERANCE.  —  PHYSICAL  AND  MORAL 
CO-RAGE. — His  AVERSION  TO  RICHES  AND  LUXURY  — 
UTILITARIAN.  —  NEATNESS.  —  INVITED  CRITICISM.  —  His 
LITERARY  HABITS.  —  HUMOR.  —  DOCTRINAL  DUEL.  —  How 

HE    USUALLY     SPENT     THE    DAY. HlS    DOMESTIC    VIRTUES. 

—  NEVER  IRRITABLE  OR  IMPATIENT.  —  CRAVED  MANIFES 
TATIONS  OF  AFFECTION.  —  A  WISE  AND  FOND  FATHER.  — 
MRS.  MAY. 

TN  person  Mr.  May  was  of  middle  stature,  straight 
•*•  and  well-proportioned,  rather  slender  when  a  young 
man,  but  becoming  stout,  although  not  corpulent,  in 
later  years.  His  complexion  was  fair,  with  a  fresh 
color;  his  hair,  which  was  very  fine  and  silky,  was 
black,  never  more  than  slightly  sprinkled  with  gray,  to 
which  his  beard  turned  at  sixty ;  his  eyes  brown,  the 
pupils  small,  the  lids  a  little  drooping,  and  with  an 
indescribable  twinkle  of  genial  good-nature  about  them ; 
the  nose  and  mouth  were  large,  but  shapely,  the  expres 
sion  of  the  latter  decided  and  firm.  His  countenance 
was  singularly  expressive  from  its  great  mobility,  reflect- 
ing  changes  of  feeling  readily.  "  When  I  first  met  h'm, 
at  twenty-seven  years  of  age,"  says  an  old  friend,  "  I 
thought  him  the  handsomest  man  I  had  ever  seen." 

The  likeness   which   accompanies   this   volume,   re 
garded  as  fair,  but  not  excellent,  by  his  friends,  is  from 


\ 

PERSONAL  TRAITS  AND  HOME  LIFE.       261 

a  photograph  taken  but  three  months  before  his  death. 
It  gives,  perhaps,  something  of  the  sweetness  of  his 
countenance,  but  partially  lacks  the  masculine  strength 
which  underlay  its  expression.  Nothing  could  exceed 
the  sweetness  of  his  smile  or  the  contagious  hearti 
ness  of  his  laugh.  His  voice  was  remarkably  powerful 
and  searching,  but  perfectly  smooth,  very  musical,  and 
w^ll  modulated.  Theodore  Parker  said  of  it,  "God 
made  that  voice  on  purpose  to  pronounce  the  Beati 
tudes."  He  sang  delightfully,  with  great  expression 
and  the  highest  enjoyment,  both  sacred  and  secular 
music ;  being  very  fond  especially  of  English  ballads, 
of  which  he  knew  a  great  many.  One  of  his  classmates 
tells  us  that  a  college  party  "  was  never  thought  com 
plete  if  they  could  not  get  May  in  to  sing."  His  man 
ners  were  of  exceeding  grace  and  dignity.  He  retained 
a  good  deal  of  the  style  of  the  old  school,  and  in  formal 
intercourse  was  courtly  and  almost  precise.  But  his 
unbounded  geniality  relieved  his  bearing  of  all  stiffness, 
and  in  familiar  society  made  him  easy  and  informal. 
Yet  even  in  the  most  intimate  relations  there  was  a 
considerate  politeness  in  his  behavior,  which  he  never 
relaxed  or  forgot.  He  greatly  disliked  the  neglect  of 
courtesy  which  he  thought  characterized,  to  some  extent, 
our  recent  times.  He  was  emphatically  well-bred. 
Manners  were  morals  with  him,  and  the  disregard  of 
the  little  amenities  of  behavior  in  domestic  and  private 
life  always  tried  his  feelings  and  offended  his  taste. 
"  It  is  so  easy  to  say  a  pleasant  word,"  he  used  to  urge. 
"A  little  act  of  attention  is  worth  more  than  a  real 


262  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

service."  He  carried  these  principles  into  his  treatment 
of  the  poor  and  humble,  and  it  was  one  secret  of  his 
influence  with  them  and  their  delight  in  him.  A  man, 
he  held,  is,  as  a  man,  entitled  to  courtesy  as  much  as 
to  justice ;  and  he  was  scrupulously  attentive  to  all 
the  dictates  of  politeness  among  the  humblest  of  the 
objects  of  his  charity.  "It  does  them  more  good  to 
be  treated  with  respect  than  to  have  food  or  clothing 
given  to  them,"  he  used  to  say. 

He  showed  towards  servants  and  laboring  people 
a  sympathetic  friendliness  which  hardly  seemed  con 
descension,  and  which  made  them  devoted  to  him.  In 
his  own  family  they  always  attended  to  his  wants  with 
an  enthusiasm  of  loyalty;  and  a  lady  tells  us  that,  when 
he  called  at  her  house,  her  servant  was  always  greatly 
disappointed  if  any  one  else  went  to  the  door  to  let  him 
in.  He  taught  his  family  to  encourage  the  self-respect 
of  such  persons  by  their  mode  of  speaking  to  them ;  and, 
except  domestics,  they  were  always  addressed  as  "  Mr." 
or  "  Mrs.,"  and  not  by  nicknames. 

His  entrance  into  a  room  was  delightfully  gracious, 
and  his  presence  among  a  circle  of  friends  was  a  guar 
antee  of  sociability  and  -merriment.  "  He  was  one  of 
the  most  mirthful  men  I  ever  knew,"  says  one  who  was 
long  familiar  with  him.  His  fund  of  stories  and  per 
sonal  anecdotes  was  almost  inexhaustible,  and  he  told 
them  with  the  greatest  glee  and  with  a  large  share  of 
dramatic  effect.  His  habit  of  thought  was,  however, 
essentially  sober,  although  cheerful.  Mirth  and  humor 
he  loved,  but  he  was  highly  sensitive  to  levity  or  irrev- 


PERSONAL   TRAITS  AND  HOME  LIFE.       263 

erence.  Even  wit  lie  rather  feared,  often  saying  he 
was  glad  he  was  not  a  witty  man,  it  was  so  hard  to  use 
wit  without  abusing  it.  The  scathing  satire  of  his 
friends,  Horace  Mann  and  Theodore  Parker,  he  always 
spoke  of  with  almost  a  shudder. 

Although  delicate  in  youth,  Mr.  May  inherited  from 
his  parents  a  robust  constitution,  and  enjoyed  superior 
health  throughout  his  life.  His  capacity  of  endurance 
was  very  great,  as  the  variety  of  his  activities  implies ; 
iTut  this  depended  largely  also  on  his  equability  of  tem 
perament,  and  the  unqualified  heartiness  with  which 
he  took  up  every  thing  he  had  to  do.  No  energy  was 
wasted  in  overcoming  the  friction  of  disinclination  to 
duty.  He  was  in  every  thing  hearty.  He  enjoyed 
life,  meeting  it  cheerily,  and  taking  it  up  earnestly  and 
joyously.  "There  is  one  life,  of  little  importance  to 
other  people,  perhaps,  but  which  I  take  a  supreme 
interest  in:  I  mean  my  own,"  he  was  fond  of  say 
ing. 

He  was  no  ascetic.  He  was  a  generous  eater,  fond 
of  good  cheer,  and  liking  to  see  a  bounteous  table ; 
although  in  his  personal  habits  he  was  extremely  sim 
ple,  always  contented  with  what  was  set  before  him, 
and  never  making  any  suggestion  for  the  gratification 
of  his  own  appetite  or  taste  at  his  own  table.  His  wife 
used  to  say  it  was  of  no  use  to  cook  for  him,  he  could 
not  tell  what  he  had  eaten.  The  one  thing  he  loved 
better  than  all  others  was  boiled  rice,  on  which,  when 
interrupted  in  the  midst  of  composing  a  sermon,  he 
would  often  dine  exclusively.  He  was  very  fond  of 


264: 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


tea,  and  used  to  jest  at  this  taste  and  his  temperance 
principles  at  once,  by  calling  himself  a  "teo-totaller." 
He  liked  also  the  taste  of  wine,  and  always  said  he 
should  enjoy  wine  and  the  sociability  to  which  it  con 
tributes,  if  he  could  use  it  conscientiously.  But  having 
in  early  manhood  adopted  the  principle  of  total  absti 
nence,  it  became  so  deeply  rooted  in  his  conscience  that 
it  always  pained  him  to  see  intoxicating  beverages  con- 
vivially  or  freely  used.  He  could  hardly  excuse  it,  that 
men,  to  gratify  themselves,  should  risk  making  weaker 
brothers  offend.1  It  was  difficult  to  persuade  him  in 

1  This  sentiment,  and  the  frankness  with  which  Mr.  May  was 
able  to  utter  his  convictions,  are  both  illustrated  in  the  following 
letter.  He  had  been  invited,  by  the  committee  of  gentlemen  charged 
with  arranging  the  festivities  of  St.  Patrick's  Day,  to  attend  the 
dinner.  The  compliment  to  him  as  a  Protestant  clergyman  was 
highly  acceptable ;  but  he  felt  unable  to  attend,  and  declined,  for 
the  reasons  expressed  in  the  letter :  — 

SYRACUSE,  March  17,  1853. 
MESSRS.  D.  MCCARTHY  AND  OTHERS. 

GENTLEMEN,  — I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  invitation  to 
the  proposed  celebration  of  St.  Patrick's  Day.  I  should  be  very 
happy  to  express,  by  accepting  your  invitation,  my  kind  regards 
for  that  portion  of  my  fellow-citizens  who  have  come  directly,  or 
by  descent,  from  Ireland. 

But  I  see  so  much  poverty,  wretchedness,  and  crime  following 
from  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks,  that  I  abhor  the  sight  and 
smell  of  them  ;  and  cannot  consent  to  give  my  countenance  to 
them,  no,  not  for  an  hour,  except  it  may  be  in  the  chamber  of 
sickness,  under  the  direction  of  a  discreet  physician. 

If  any  people  on  earth  need  these  artificial  stimulants  less  than 
others,  it  seems  to  me  they  are  the  Irish.  Our  Creator  seems  to 
have  bestowed  upon  that  branch  of  his  human  family  a  large  share 
of  animal  spirits,  —  of  buoyancy  and  light-heartedness.  I  know 


PERSONAL  TRAITS  AND  HOME  LIFE.       265 

age  to  take  wine  as  a  means  of  strength,  although  he 
always  conceded  its  utility  to  the  old  or  infirm.  But, 
when  he  took  it,  he  fell  into  the  old  decorums  so  natu 
rally,  that  his  family  were  accustomed  to  tell  him  that 
he  "  should  not  drink  healths  in  a  medicine." 

He  united  to  his  generous  and  well-knit  physique  a 
high  degree  of  physical  and  moral  courage.  He  used 
to  tell  a  story  of  his  grandmother,  a  lady  of  Revolu 
tionary  times,  who,  when  a  robber  was  getting  into  her 
window  at  night,  sprang  from  bed,  seized  him  by  the 
shoulders,  and  pushed  him  out  upon  the  ground,  saying, 
as  she  did  so,  "You  rascal,  you'll  wake  my  husband!" 
The  same  heroine,  hearing  one  speak  of  fear,  exclaimed, 
"Fear!  What  is  fear?  I  don't  know  what  the  word 
means."  Her  grandson  was  endowed  with  a  portion 

not  what  else  has  sustained  them  under  the  load  of  accumulated 
wrongs  which  they  have  been  compelled  to  suffer. 

In  a  country  like  ours,  with  such  spirits  as  they  have,  nothing 
can  prevent  them  from  obtaining  at  once  the  comforts  of  life,  and 
rising  in  due  time  to  affluence  and  honor,  if  they  will  let  ardent  spirits 
alone.  But  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks  perpetuates  their  shift- 
lessness,  excites  them  to  quarrelling,  to  disturbances  of  the  peace, 
and  violations  of  right,  wholly  foreign  to  their  natural  kindness 
and  good  humor. 

If  the  celebration  this  evening  was  to  be  without  wine,  or  any 
kind  of  ardent  spirits,  it  would  give  me  pleasure  to  attend  it ;  but 
I  cannot  willingly  subject  myself  to  the  pain  and  the  shame  of 
seeing  men  (for  a  momentary  gratification)  swallowing  that  which 
I  know  may  commence  in  them,  or  perpetuate,  an  indulgence  that 
leads  to  poverty,  woe,  and  crime. 

Would  to  God  that  the  Irishmen  of  Syracuse  would  to-night 
instal  Father  Mathew  as  their  Patron  Saint,  and  for  ever  after  live 
in  accordance  with  his  principles. 

Respectfully.  SAMUEL  J.  MAT. 

12 


266  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

of  her  character,  as  some  of  the  anecdotes  we  elsewhere 
narrate  exhibit.  The  phrenologist  Fowler,  not  know 
ing  who  he  was,  examined  Mr.  May's  head,  and  de 
clared  it  was  the  head  of  a  military  man ;  and,  when 
informed  of  the  principles  and  character  of  his  subject, 
maintained  that  he  was  nevertheless  correct,  as,  accord 
ing  to  his  system,  Mr.  May  had  courage,  firmness,  de 
cision,  order,  and  other  military  qualities,  largely  devel 
oped.  An  active  Abolitionist  in  1835  certainly  needed  all 
these.  In  college  he  was,  in  fact,  drill-sergeant  of  the 
college  battalion,  at  that  time  celebrated  for  the  ele 
gance  of  their  evolutions.  He  was,  however,  never 
prone,  we  believe,  to  athletic  achievements  or  expos 
ures,  was  timid  and  awkward  with  horses,  and  dizzy 
lip  on  great  elevations. 

He  never  shrank  from  any  call  of  duty,  but  was 
disinclined  to  taking  any  needless  risks.  Similarly, 
although  generous  and  charitable  almost  to  prodigality, 
he  had  a  great  aversion  to  waste.  This  sentiment  made 
him  possibly  a  little  unjust  in  his  aversion  to  riches 
and  the  luxury  attendant  on  them.  He  could  not  look 
upon  the  palaces  of  the  wealthy  without  remembering 
the  squalor  of  the  poor.  Ostentation  in  dress,  architect 
ure,  or  equipage,  always  offended  him ;  partly  from  the 
reason  we  have  just  mentioned,  partly  from  a  natural 
simplicity  and  practicality  of  mind  which  were  very 
characteristic  of  him.  These  latter  qualities  made  him, 
though  extremely  fond  of  music,  thoroughly  dislike  such 
as  was  of  a  florid  or  operatic  character.  He  disliked  and 
disapproved  much  of  the  modern  church  music,  and  sel- 


PERSONAL   TRAITS  AND  HOME  LIFE. 

dom  enjoyed  the  "  Vesper  Services  "  of  late  years  used  in 
many  churches.  The  same  traits  of  character  seem  to 
reappear  in  the  emphases  of  his  theology  and  the  tenor 
of  his  preaching,  which  were  always  and  characteristi 
cally  practical.  He  valued  things  for  the  use  they  sub 
served.  Mere  beauty  he  probably  did  not  adequately 
appreciate.  His  taste  in  poetry  was  guided  almost 
wholly  by  his  moral  sentiments  rather  than  by  aesthetic 
sensibility.  He  could  scarcely  endure  Browning  or 
"Tennyson,  but  delighted  in  a  ballad  or  sonnet  of 
Wordsworth,  and  was  profoundly  stirred  by  a  moral 
lyric  of  Whittier.  Fiction  he  enjoyed  almost  not  at 
all.  His  wife  told  him  he  read  a  novel  as  if  it  were  a 
treatise  of  theology.  He  admired  the  grand  in  nature 
or  art,  from  the  reverential  tendency  of  his  mind,  and 
an  object  like  Mont  Blanc  or  St.  Peter's  profoundly 
affected  him;  but  he  was  not  in  general  acutely  sen 
sitive  to  the  quieter  and  subtler  forms  of  natural  or 
artistic  beauty.  He  would  value  the  portrait  of  a 
friend,  or  some  champion  of  the  right,  or  a  picture  like 
one  of  Mrs.  Fry  reading  to  prisoners,  which  always 
hung  in  his  study,  the  gift  of  his  friend,  President 
White,  more  than  any  mere  work  of  art.  He  was, 
however,  sensitive  to  personal  beauty,  although  in 
capable  of  comparing  it  to  high  moral  qualities. 

Neatness  and  order  he  valued  highly,  and  practised 
habitually.  His  longest  manuscript  was,  although  he 
wrote  with  great  rapidity,  legible  and  elegant  to  the 
end.  He  abhorred  bad  handwriting,  and  thought  it 
almost  wrong,  and  certainly  of  questionable  civility, 


268  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

to  impose  it  on  a  correspondent.  He  was  not,  however, 
very  systematic,  although  his  sense  of  duty  made  him 
thorough  in  the  discharge  of  every  task.  Any  thing  ill 
done  offended  him. 

He  liked  to  feel  that  his  own  public  efforts  were 
creditably  performed,  and  always  asked  his  wife  and 
children  on  return  from  church  how  they  had  liked  his 
sermon.  But  he  never  betrayed  any  thing  of  personal 
ambition,  and  was  extremely  modest  in  his  estimate  of 
his  gifts  and  actual  services.  He  accepted  criticism 
of  his  conduct,  views,  or  style,  with  perfect  candor  and 
good  will,  and  was  genuinely  satisfied  to  be  shown 
where  either  might  be  improved.  During  the  earner 
portion  of  his  Syracuse  ministry,  he  lived  near  the 
church ;  and  the  sociable  manners  of  his  people  led  to 
the  habit  of  a  large  number  following  him  home  after 
service  on  Sunday  evening,  to  talk  over  the  suggestions 
of  the  day.  Very  earnest  debate  often  sprang  up,  in 
which  Mr.  May's  views  and  his  style  were  exten 
sively  criticised.  He  bore  his  own  part  frankly,  but 
one  who  was  usually  present  says, "  It  never  occurred  to 
me  to  hesitate  in  saying  any  thing,  as  if  Mr.  May  would 
care  if  I  disputed  or  criticised  him." 

Mr.  May  was  essentially  a  moralist  and  philanthro 
pist.  He  valued  greatly,  therefore,  the  substance  of 
doctrine,  but  not  much  the  details  of  speculation  or 
scholarship.  Hence  he  was  not  a  profound  student 
or  a  systematic  reader,  although  his  habits  might  have 
been  different  in  this  respect,  had  his  time  been  less 
broken  and  consumed  in  benevolent  activities.  His 


PERSONAL    TRALTS  AND  HOME  LIFE.       269 

daily  routine  found  him,  however,  always  in  his  study, 
and  he  never  seemed  so  happy  as  when  he  could  com 
mand  quiet  hours  there.      Entries  often  occur  in  his 
diary  to  this  effect :  "  A  quiet  morning  with  my  books, 
which  I  enjoyed  exceedingly."    He  retired  to  his  study 
immediately  after  breakfast,  often  saying  as  he  went  in, 
"  Now  I  do  hope  no  one  will  come  to  interrupt  me." 
But  he  could  hardly  say  "No"  to  any  caller,  even  on 
his  busiest  morning.     Living,  latterly,  at  some  distance 
"from  the  centre  of  town,  he  made  that  an  excuse  to 
himself  for  letting  in  those  who  came ;  and  so  at  din 
ner-time  it  was  almost  customary  for  him  to  enter  the 
dining-room  with  the  half-pathetic  remark,  "  There,  my 
morning  has  been  all  spoiled  again."     The  ladies  of  his 
household  were  always  on  the  alert  to  protect  him  from 
these  intrusions,  and  would  plead  with  him  to  let  them 
Bay  he  was  engaged,  but  his  kindness  of  heart  con 
stantly  defeated  their  vigilance.     An  outer  door,  oppo 
site  the  principal  entrance,  opened  immediately  into  the 
study;  and  if  Mr.  May  heard  the  bell,  and  there  was 
the  least  delay,  they  were  pretty  certain  to  find  that  he 
had  opened  this  before  they  reached  the  other.    He  was 
always  very  contrite,  but  never  reformed  in  this  respect, 
although  he  confessed  that  he  often  impaired  thus  the 
quality  and  finish  of  his  literary  work.      Finally  the 
study  door  became  well  known  to  all  that  needed  him ; 
and  the  unfortunate  of  all  colors,  tribes,  and    <eligions, 
with  agents,  missionaries,  and  reformers,  seemed  to  go 
to  it  by  instinct.     He  was  patient  with  them  to  the  last 
degree,  hearing  every  story  out,  and  showing  himself 


270  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

incapable  of  brusqueness  or  irritability  with  a  human 
being.  He  detected  imposture  with  more  skill  than  his 
compassion  left  him  credit  for,  yet  probably  his  judg 
ment  was  often  overborne  by  his  indulgent  sympathy 
and  pity.  His  sense  of  humor  also  relieved  the  tedium 
of  these  innumerable  inflictions;  and  he  had  many  a 
hearty  laugh  at  the  oddities  of  such  visitors,  and  at  his 
own  Bufferings.  The  grave  respect  with  which  he  would 
discuss  the  whims  of  some  poor  fanatic  like  his  long 
time  friend, "  the  Prophet  of  the  Everlasting  Covenant," 
was  admirable.  And  it  was  not  hollow  either;  for 
his  quick  sympathy  made  him  love  to  gratify  the  poor 
visionary  on  whom  every  one  else  would,  he  knew, 
turn  the  cold  shoulder. 

One  story  illustrating  this  patience  is  worth  telling 
here.  An  aged  believer  in  the  Trinitarian  theology  had 
convinced  himself  that  he  could  exhibit  to  Mr.  May  his 
doctrinal  errors  by  a  sort  of  Socratic  method,  and  re 
quested  him  to  appoint  a  time  when  he  would  be  will 
ing  to  submit  to  it.  His  plan  was  this :  The  discussion 
was  to  be  in  writing  as  to  the  main  points,  although 
limited  conversation  was  to  be  permitted,  if  necessary, 
in  arriving  at  them.  Each  disputant  was  to  be  allowed 
a  second,  who  was  to  remain  wholly  silent  unless  ap 
pealed  to.  Mr.  May  consented  to  every  proposition, 
and  with  a  trace  of  glee  invited  a  friend  of  similar 
temper  to  act  upon  his  side.  At  the  appointed  hour 
the  aged  apostle  appeared  at  Mr.  May's  study-door, 
with  his  second,  and  a  huge  pile  of  manuscript.  A 
table  was  provided,  at  which  all  parties  took  their 


PERSONAL   TRAITS  AND  HOME  LIFE.       271 

places  with  peos  and  paper,  and  total  silence  reigned. 
The  disciple  of  Socrates  was  intensely  grave ;  Mr. 
May  and  his  second  with  some  difficulty  restraining 
their  sense  of  the  grim  humor  of  the  occasion.  The 
duel  began  with  a  shot  from  the  aged  Calvinist.  He 
wrote  and  passed  to  Mr.  May  this  question :  No.  1, 
"Do  you  believe  the  Bible?"  Mr.  May  inquired, 
"  Do  you  mean  to  ask  if  I  believe  every  word  in  the 
Bible  t^  be  true,  or  whether  I  believe  in  its  general 
historical  and  doctrinal  purport,  and  accept  its  spirit?" 
The  old  gentleman  reflected  and  replied,  "The  latter." 
Mr.  May  thereupon  wrote  as  his  answer,  "  I  do."  It  was 
now,  by  the  terms  of  the  agreement,  Mr.  May's  turn  to 
write  a  question.  He  wrote,  "  Do  you  believe  the  Bible 
to  be  true  and  correct  in  every  particular,  or  do  you 
concede  the  existence  of  some  defects,  interpolations, 
mistranslations,  and  inconsistencies  of  narrative  ?"  Be 
coming  evidently  a  little  perplexed,  his  opponent  pres 
ently  wrote  his  reply :  "  I  admit  the  existence  of  some 
such  defects."  It  was  now  time  for  question  No.  2. 
All  waited  in  solemn  quiet  for  it  to  be  written.  The 
old  gentleman  reflected  long,  fumbled  and  studied  his 
MS.  He  had  evidently  expected  Mr.  May  to  give  some 
sort  of  negative  answer  to  his  first  question,  and  the 
affirmative  reply  had  thrown  his  line  of  battle  into  dis 
order.  At  length  he  rose,  and  with  considerable  can 
dor  said :  "  Mr.  May,  I  have  been  in  error.  Your  views 
are  evidently  different  from  what  I  had  imagined.  I 
supposed  you  did  not  believe  in  the  Bible.  I  thank  you 
for  your  courtesy ;  but,  if  you  please,  I  will  withdraw 


272  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

from  this  discussion."  "  Certainly,"  replied  Mr.  May : 
"  I  am  only  glad  if  it  has  shown  you  that  you  had  mis 
judged  my  position.  You  will  certainly  want,  however, 
to  understand  Unitarian  views  better,  and  I  wish  you 
would  accept  from  me  some  of  our  publications."  The 
old  gentleman  assented,  and  Mr.  May  proceeded  to  se 
lect  a  considerable  number  of  tracts  from  the  supply 
he  kept  always  on  hand.  They  were  graciously  accepted, 
and  the  apostle  of  Calvinism  prepared  to  depart.  Before 
taking  his  leave,  however,  he  said,  solemnly,  "  Mr  May, 
I  have  only  one  more  favor  to  ask;  and  that  is,  that 
what  we  have  just  written  may  be  consigned  to  the 
flames."  Mr.  May  at  once  gathered  up  all  the  leaves 
and  scraps  which  had  been  employed,  and  threw  them 
into  the  fire;  and  then,  very  gravely,  with  his  MS. 
and  his  second,  the  proposed  agent  of  his  conversion 
withdrew,  carrying  quite  a  body  of  Unitarian  literature 
under  his  arm.  When  he  was  fairly  out  of  hearing,  Mr. 
May  (as  his  second  in  this  duel  tells  us)  leaned  back  in 
his  chair  and  actually  shook  with  laughter,  till  the  tears 
ran  down  his  cheeks. 

We  have  elsewhere  remarked  that  Mr.  May,  although 
devoted  to  many  benevolent  reforms,  and  incessant  in 
private  charity,  remained  always  characteristically  a 
parish  minister.  This  sphere  he  loved  unreservedly, 
and  felt  to  be  his  chosen  field  of  permanent  service. 
His  habits  of  life,  which  were  very  uniform,  conformed 
to  this,  and  were  always  those  of  a  pastor.  The  me  ru 
ing,  as  we  have  already  said,  was  passed  in  his  study, 
reading  or  writing,  unless  interrupted ;  the  afternoon  he 


PERSONAL  TRAITS  AND  HOME  LIFE.       273 

devoted  to  parish  visits  and  to  charitable  or  other  active 
offices.  After  dinner  he  dressed,  and  with  his  cane,  a 
constant  companion,  set  out  for  town.  His  cheery  voice 
was  always  heard,  before  he  started,  calling  up  to  his 
wife  a  good-by,  asking  her  commissions,  and  indicating 
his  probable  programme  for  the  afternoon.  His  parish 
being  widely  scattered,  and  his  engagements  outside  :t 
being  so  varied,  he  was  apt  to  be  absent  from  tea  and 
to  return  only  during  the  evening;  an  infringement 
upon  his  home  life  which  he  always  regretted,  but 
which  the  distance  of  his  home  from  the  centre  of  town 
made  almost  unavoidable.  Returning,  he  enjoyed  read 
ing  awhile  aloud  from  the  papers,  or,  when  time  per 
mitted,  some  article  from  a  magazine  or  passages  from 
books  which  were  interesting  him.  He  retired  by  ten 
or  half-past  ten,  and  was  almost  instantly  asleep.  Six 
or  seven  hours  was  all  he  cared  to  sleep.  He  used  to 
say  his  best  thoughts  came  to  him  at  dawn;  and  he 
wrote  much  before  breakfast. 

He  loved  to  see  his  family  all  together  at  the  break 
fast-table,  and  depended  on  its  being  a  social  and  cheer 
ful  meal.  His  own  good  health  made  him  always  fresh 
and  ready  with  hearty  greetings  and  interest  in  all  the 
doings  of  the  day  before  and  plans  for  the  day  to  come. 
A  great  part  of  his  life  he  conducted  a  simple  religious 
service  before  leaving  the  breakfast-table,  and  was  al 
ways  fervent  and  happy  in  it.  But  he  preferred  to 
omit  this  rather  than  to  persevere  in  it  through  any 
kind  of  disturbance,  or  when  all  were  not  in  the  mood 
for  it.  He  always  inclined  to  read  from  the  New  Testa- 
12*  B 


274  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

merit.  One  winter,  however,  all  his  family  being  absent 
except  Mrs.  May,  he  read  through  at  this  hour  the 
Prophets  and  a  large  part  of  the  historical  books  of  the 
Old  Testament,  expressly  to  refresh  his  memory  and 
hers.  He  afterwards  wrote  to  his  son  that  he  had 
been  astonished  to  find  how  large  a  portion  of  the  Old 
Testament  was  practically  valueless.  He  had  really 
forgotten,  he  said,  how  much  of  it  is  unintelligible,  un 
interesting,  and  remote  from  the  concerns  of  modern 
life.  "What  a  pity,"  he  exclaimed,  "that  instead  of 
spending  money  and  pains  to  reprint  and  circulate  such 
material,  we  cannot,  instead,  make  familiar  chosen  pas 
sages,  from  whatever  source,  which  should  really  be 
inspiring  and  suggestive." 

We  do  not  desire  to  eulogize  in  writing  of  Mr.  May, 
but  we  should  not  satisfy  the  grateful  feelings  of  his 
family  if  we  failed  to  place  on  record  here  the  loveli 
ness  of  his  bearing  in  his  home.  He  practised  no  virtue 
abroad  which  was  not  fully  paralleled  in  his  most  private 
life.  Devoted  affection,  unselfishness,  thoughtfulness, 
responsiveness,  cheerfulness,  were  his  unvarying  charac 
teristics,  and  they  made  a  sunshine  throughout  his 
house.  As  the  head  of  his  family,  he  loved  respect,  out 
exacted  no  peculiar  attention  to  his  individual  wants  or 
tastes.  He  seemed  to  have  no  selfish  wishes,  and  cer 
tainly  had  neither  moods  nor  whims.  His  serenity, 
born  not  more  of  temperament  than  of  principle,  was 
uniform.  The  fret  of  daily  life  seemed  scarcely  to  touch 
him.  "  It  is  a  literal  truth,"  says  one  of  his  children, 
"  that  I  never  in  my  life  heard  my  father  utter  an  irri- 


PERSONAL   TRAITS  AND  HOME  LIFE.       275 

table  or  impatient  word."  He  bore  interruption  of  his 
own  pursuits  with  complete  patience,  and  entered  in 
stantly  and  heartily  into  the  interests  or  wishes  of  the 
youngest  of  his  family.  He  liked  to  be  admitted  to 
the  confidence  of  his  children,  and,  when  he  could  com 
mand  leisure,  to  participate  in  their  pursuits.  He  craved 
manifestations  of  affection :  a  pleasant  word,  a  smile,  or 
loving  act,  touched  him  tenderly.  He  loved  to  be 
-cordially  greeted  and  to  be  caressed.  He  used  to  say, 
when  one  was  paying  him  any  little  personal  attention, 
"  How  I  love  to  be  mucked!  "  i.e.,  made  much  of.  One 
of  those  who  waited  on  him  in  his  last  illness  writes, 
"  He  was  the  only  man  who  ever  when  sick  deserved 
the  name  of  '  patient.'  " 

He  was  earnest  to  gratify  his  children's  tastes,  and 
to  secure  them  any  enjoyment  on  which  they  set  their 
hearts,  but,  above  all,  to  provide  them  every  possible 
opportunity  of  education.  On  his  own  gratification  or 
comfort  he  spent  neither  money  nor  thought ;  but  for 
them  he  would  sacrifice  every  thing.  Never  enjoying 
a  large  salary,  it  was  not  easy  to  give  them  the  advan 
tages  he  wished.  But  he  strained  every  nerve  to  keep 
them  at  good  schools,  and  to  provide  them  the  privi 
leges  of  more  advanced  training.  A  principal  reason 
with  him  for  removing  to  Syracuse  was,  he  often  re 
marked,  the  expectation  of  securing  his  children  a  bet 
ter  education  and  a  better  start  in  life,  as  well  as  of 
keeping  them  about  him  as  they  grew  up. 

It  was  always  a  pleasure  to  him  to  see  his  family  all 
together  and  happy.  The  noise  of  children's  play  never 


276 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


disturbed  him,  he  used  to  say,  so  long  as  their  voices 
were  happy.  When  engaged  himself,  if  he  passed 
through  the  family  sitting-room,  there  was  always  a 
beaming  smile  of  satisfaction  on  his  countenance.  In 
every  success  of  his  children  he  took  a  loving  pride ; 
always  visiting  their  schools  frequently,  and  often 
examining  them  at  home,  to  observe  their  progress  in 
their  studies.  But  his  affection  was  always  governed 
by  principle;  and  he  was  so  much  opposed  to  false 
methods  of  stimulating  pupils,  that,  when  one  of  his 
children  who  attended  an  advanced  school  where  no 
ranking  system  existed,  received  the  approval  of  the 
instructors  so  peculiarly  that  they  proposed  to  confer  a 
special  rank,  Mr.  May  requested  them  not  to  do  so. 

Mr.  May's  married  life,  ended  on  earth  by  the  death 
of  his  beloved  wife  in  1865,  extended  over  a  period  of 
forty  years.  Mrs.  May  was  the  daughter  of  Peter 
Coffin,  a  highly  respected  merchant  of  Portsmouth, 
N.H.,  who  removed,  in  middle  life,  to  Boston.  Lucre- 
tia  Flagge  Coffin,  who  became  Mrs.  May,  was  distin 
guished  in  youth  for  her  great  beauty  of  person ;  of  a 
singularly  bright  mind,  a  vivacious  and  sensitive  tem 
perament,  earnest  for  mental  culture,  strict  in  moral 
principle,  of  strong  religious  feelings,  and  actively 
though  quietly  benevolent.  She  was  a  most  devoted 
wife  and  mother,  a  diligent  housekeeper  with  the  tradi 
tions  of  New  England,  a  skilful  and  gentle  nurse,  and  a 
constant  reader  and  student.  Of  her  intellectual  thirst 
and  the  attainments  to  which  it  led  her,  Mr.  May  was 
fondly  proud.  She  was  a  good  historian ;  read  French 


PERSONAL   TRAITS  AND  HOME  LIFE.       277 

habitually  throughout  her  life;  and  in  her  last  years 
took  up  Italian  and  learnt  it,  unaided,  well  enough  to 
pursue  the  principal  Italian  poets  with  fluency  and 
enjoyment.  The  best  modern  literature  of  our  own 
language  she  closely  followed,  while  the  older  English 
writers  she  knew  almost  by  heart.  With  the  books  of 
her  husband's  library  she  was  almost  more  conversant 
than  himself.  She  was  a  daily  student  of  the  Bible, 
i^hich  she  usually  read  in  French,  and  was  quite  exten 
sively  acquainted  with  Scripture  literature.  On  ques 
tions  of  criticism  Mr.  May  often  appe.aled  to  her  with 
great  confidence  and  respect.  During  the  earlier  por 
tion  of  their  married  life  she  was  his  constant  com 
panion  in  the  arduous  duties  which  then  devolved, 
especially  in  a  country  parish,  on  the  minister  and  his 
wife.  From  these  she  was  debarred  in  later  life,  by  the 
impaired  condition  of  her  health ;  but  her  private  char 
ities  and  domestic  activity  never  ceased.  She  was  a 
warm  and  cordial  personal  friend,  lively  in  familiar 
society;  while  the  poor  and  unfortunate  who  came 
within  the  reach  of  her  benevolence  had  no  kinder 
word  of  gratitude  for  her  husband  than  for  her. 

Generous  and  self-denying  to  an  extreme,  she  was 
judicious  in  practical  affairs,  and  a  better  manager  than 
her  husband,  who  always  said  that  the  worldly  embar 
rassments  in  which  his  somewhat  uncontrollable  gener 
osity  involved  him  would  usually  have  been  escaped  if 
he  had  consulted  her.  The  home  was  always  a  place 
of  refuge  for  passing  unfortunates,  and  was  familiar 
with  the  tread  of  almost  every  man  or  woman  who 


LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

has  contributed  conspicuously  to  American  reforms. 
Among  these  latter,  Mrs.  May,  always  a.  painstaking 
hostess,  had  many  particular  friends.  Of  those  we  are 
now  at  liberty  to  name,  Theodore  Parker  and  Wendell 
Phillips  were,  perhaps,  the  chief.  But  in  the  equal 
hospitality  with  which  she  treated  the  various  and  in 
numerable  guests  whom  her  husband's  sympathies  and 
temper  brought  to  their  home,  the  humblest  shared  as 
fully  as  the  most  illustrious. 

The  union  of  these  two  was  marked  by  a  deep 
and  unchanging  mutual  affection  and  tenderness.  The 
domestic  and  personal  sacrifices  to  which  a  career  like 
Mr.  May's  exposed  them,  she  shared  with  perfect  acqui 
escence  ;  and  her  husband  watched  with  devoted  sym 
pathy  over  the  ill-health  which  in  her  later  years 
afflicted  her,  and  which  a  less  unselfish  and  more  popu 
lar  course  than  his  might  in  some  measure  have  pre 
vented. 

On  the  occasion  of  her  death  Mr.  May  wrote,  among 
others  of  similar  tenor,  the  following  letters,  in  which 
his  respect  and  affection  for  his  wife  are  faithfully 
shown :  — 

SYRACUSE,  May  8,  1365. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND,  — My  day  of  sorrow  has  come.  The 
dear  wife  with  whom  I  have  lived  in  love  forty  years  has  loft 
me.  I  rejoice  for  her  sake,  but  grieve,  oh  !  how  sorely,  for 
my  own.  She  has  been  a  sufferer  in  the  flesh  for  thirteen 
years,  crippled  in  her  ability  to  be  as  useful  to  others  as  she 
longed  to  be.  The  good  she  did  to  those  she  had  it  in  her 
power  to  befriend  showed  how  much  she  would  have  done 
for  very  many  more,  if  her  ability  had  been  equal  to  her 
desire. 


PERSONAL    TRAITS  AXD  HOME  LIFE. 


279 


But  her  pure,  timid,  compassionate,  conscientious  spirit  has 
now  left  the  poor  body  hi  which  she  suffered  so  much,  and 
has  entered,  I  believe,  into  a  more  glorious  body,  in  whicli 
she  will  be  able  to  go  upward  and  onward  in  that  career  of 
improvement  which  she  longed  for,  without  encountering 
the  impediments  that  here  beset  her  path. 

In  accordance  with  hsr  often  expressed  wish,  her  funeral  is 
to  be  quite  private  ;  and  I  wish  that  you  would  be  with  us  at 
the  time,  and  speak  to  us  the  words  that  shall  seem  to  you 
fitting,  and  offer  such  prayer  as  the  spirit  of  sympathy  with 
our  human  infirmities  and  confidence  hi  the  Divine  wisdom 
and  love  may  inspire. 

Yours  truly,  SAM'L  J.  MAY. 

Mr.  C.  D.  B.  MILLS. 

SYRACUSE,  May  18,  1865. 

DEAR  BUCKINGHAM,— Your  very  tender  letter  of  the 
llth  was  the  first  of  many  that  have  come  to  me  since  the 
death  of  my  precious  wife.  If  earthly  friends  can  uphold 
me,  I  am  sure  I  shall  not  fall ;  and  I  feel  also  that  the 
almighty  arm  of  the  Heavenly  Father  is  supporting  me. 

I  did  not  know  that  so  many  who  sympathize  with  ine  in 
my  bereavement  knew  so  well  how  much  I  have  lost. 

You,  and  others  who  have  written  me,  speak  of  my  dear 
wife  very  discrimiiiately.  She  was  not  only  bright,  yea, 
often  brilliant,  but  she  was  perfectly  sincere,  single-hearted, 
and  pure  as  an  infant.  Her  respect  for  the  true  and  the 
right  was  profound.  Her  thirst  for  knowledge  was  insati 
able.  Her  pursuit  of  it  was  diligent,  and  often  urged  her 
beyond  her  strength.  She  delighted  in  the  conversation  of 
intelligent  persons  ;  and  one  of  the  many  pleasures  that  have 
been  granted  her  during  her  latter  days  was  a  long  visit,  the 
last  of  March,  from  her  special  favorite,  Wendell  Phillips. 
She  enjoyed  him  to  the  utmost ;  and  a  sweet  letter,  just 
received  from  him,  assures  me  that  the  pleasure  was  mutual. 


280  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

We  buried  her  body  on  Wednesday  at  5  P.M.,  by  the  side 
of  her  darling  grand-daughter.  Mr.  Mills  officiated,  and  said 
most  beautifully  all  that  the  occasion  required.  Give  my 
love  to  your  wife. 

Truly,  affectionately  yours,  SAM'L  J.  MAY. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

CLOSING    YEARS. 
PRESIDENT  OP  THE  BOARD  OP  EDUCATION.— INSTRUMENTAL  in 

PROCURING    THE    ABOLITION    OP    CORPORAL    PUNISHMENT. 

A  NEW  SCHOOL-HOUSE  NAMED  FOR  HIM.  —  CHOSEN  PRES 
IDENT  OP  THE  ALUMNI  OP  CAMBRIDGE  DIVINITY  SCHOOL. 
—  His  INTEREST  IN  THE  NATIONAL  CONFERENCE  OP 
UNITARIAN  CHURCHES.  —  STATES  HIS  THEOLOGICAL  OPIN 
IONS.  —  REGRETS  THAT  WOMEN  WERE  NOT  INVITED  TO  THE 
FIRST  CONFERENCE.  —  FRATERNAL  FEELING  TOWARDS  UNI- 

VERSALISTS.  RESIGNS      HIS       PASTORATE.  PRIZES       THE 

LETTERS  SENT  TO  HIM.  —  TAKES  GREAT  PLEASURE  IN 
NOTING  THE  HARVEST  IN  WlNDHAM  COUNTY,  CONN.,  FROM 
THE  SEED  WHICH  HE  SOWED  THERE  LONG  BEFORE.  —  His 
"PREFERENCES."  —  His  VIEWS  OF  THE  BIBLE. 

"TV  /TR.  MAY'S  interest  in  public  affairs  was  never 
-L » -*•  more  deep  and  lively  than  during  the  last  ten 
years  of  his  earthly  life.  When  his  fellow-citizens  man 
ifested  their  appreciation  of  his  worth,  if  not  also 
their  regret  for  some  of  the  indignities  to  which  he  had 
been  subjected  on  account  of  his  fidelity  to  principles 
which  they  finally  accepted,  by  choosing  him  President 
of  the  Board  of  Education,  he  entered  upon  the  duties 
of  his  honorable  position  with  earnestness  and  diligence. 
The  schools  of  Syracuse  derived  great  benefit  from  his 
experience  as  a  teacher  and  his  life-long  observation  of 
the  best  methods  of  instruction. 

His  influence  in  behalf  of  the  abolition  of  corporal  j 
punishment  was  very  great,  and  his  face  was  never 


282  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  .J.  MAY. 

more  radiant  than  when  he  told  of  the  success  of  such 
experiments  as  that  of  appealing  to  the  hopes  rather 
than  the  fears  of  pupils.  "We  are  saved  by  hope," 
was  one  of  his  favorite  texts ;  and  he  believed,  with  all 
his  heart,  in  the  duty  of  judicious  encouragement. 

In  one  of  the  Syracuse  schools  the  teacher  adopted 
a  plan  of  having  a  medal  to  be  awarded  to  the  class 
which  should  make  the  most  creditable  progress  from 
time  to  time.  This  class  chose  from  its  own  number  a 
boy  who  should  be  the  medal-bearer.  The  most  indo 
lent  and  mischievous  boy  in  the  school  soon  began  to 
feel  his  obligations  to  his  classmates,  paying  more  atten 
tion  to  his  lessons,  and  being  less  frequently  reproved 
for  misconduct.  His  class  gained  the  medal ;  and  his 
classmates,  of  their  own  accord,  chose  him  medal-bearer, 
to  reward  him  for  the  efforts  he  had  so  evidently  made 
to  improve  in  his  deportment  and  scholarship.  The 
reformed  boy  was  completely  overcome  by  this  gener 
ous  tribute. 

This  story  afforded  Mr.  May  unbounded  pleasure, 
and  he  was  fond  of  citing  it  as  an  illustration  of  the 
latent  nobility  in  the  human  breast.  He  took  an  honest 
pride  in  the  new  May  school-house  which  was  named 
for  him. 

Honored  in  his  own  immediate  country,  this  faithful 
prophet  was  also  revered  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  land.  His  presence  at  any  gathering 
in  the  East  or  the  West  added  to  the  happiness  of 
the  whole  assembly.  His  election  as  President  of  the 
Alumni  of  the  Cambridge  Divinity  School  was  only 


CLOSING   YEARS.  283 

one  of  many  expressions  of  reverence  and  love  for  him 
in  his  old  age. 

With  all  his  love  of  manly  independence  and  his 
respect  for  individual  convictions,  Mr.  May  was  such  a 
lover  of  his  kind,  that  he  longed  for  associated  action 
whenever  it  could  be  obtained  without  any  sacrifice  of 
principle.  Therefore  he  was  pleased  when  the  call  for 
the  convention  which  organized  the  National  Confer 
ence  of  Unitarian  Churches  was  issued.  His  opinions 
at  this  time  are  well  expressed  in  a  letter  to  Rev. 
Edgar  Buckingham. 

SYRACUSE,  Feb.  8,  1865. 

DEAR  BUCKINGHAM,  —  Your  wise  and  witty  epistle  of  the 
1st  reached  me  on  the  morning  of  the  2d,  and  prompted  me 
to  reply  to  you  immediately.  But  I  thought  it  better  to  wait 
until  after  we  should  have  seen  what  the  committee  \\  ould 
propose  for  the  Convention  to  do. 

The  programme  is  better  than  I  expected,  and  yet  indefi 
nite,  just  as  is  the  condition  of  our  denomination.  And  yet, 
though  I  foresee  not  what  will  be  done,  nor  indeed  very 
clearly  what  it  will  be  best  to  do,  I  think  it  advisable  to  hold 
the  Convention.  If  it  shall  be,  as  I  trust  it  will  be,  largely 
attended,  and  by  churches  and  ministers  of  every  variety 
of  Unitarian,  liberal,  and  rationalistic  belief,  by  supernatu- 
ralists  and  anti-supernaturalists,  it  will  serve  one  good  pur 
pose,  at  least :  it  -will  make  us  better  acquainted  with  each 
other,  and  with  the  unsettled  state  of  our  ecclesiastical 
body. 

I  hope  the  Convention  will  be  enabled  to  define  simply  and 
clearly  who  ought  to  be  considered  professed  Christians  and 
who  real  Christians,  and  at  the  same  time  allow  that  many 
may  be  dear  children  of  God  who  are  not  Christians  ;  that 
purity  of  heart  and  righteousness  of  life  alone  can  make  any 


284 


LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


one  acceptable  to  the  Heavenly  Father  ;  and  that  if  any  men 
do  attain  that  purity  and  righteousness  without  the  aid  of 
Jesus  Christ,  they  will  still  be  accepted  by  him  and  by  God. 

It  seems  to  me  self-evident  that  the  acknowledgment  of 
Christ's  authority  as  a  teacher  of  divine  truth  and  a  leader 
of  salvation  is  indispensable  to  the  Christian  name  and  to 
any  standing  in  the  Christian  Church,  but  that  such  acknowl 
edgment  alone  will  not  entitle  any  one  to  consider  himself, 
or  to  be  regarded  by  others,  as  a  true  Christian,  if  he  is  con 
scious  of  suffering  any  impure  desires  or  unholy  purposes 
to  dwell  in  his  bosom,  or  is  seen  by  others  to  be  a  worker 
of  iniquity.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  if  a  man  is  conscious  of 
pure  desires  and  upright  intentions,  of  earnestly  aspiring  to 
know  and  to  do  the  will  of  God,  he  may  look  up  as  much 
as  any  other  man  may,  with  expectation  of  the  Divine  appro 
bation  ;  and  if  his  Christian  neighbors  see  in  his  life  the  evi 
dences  of  his  piety  and  benevolence,  they  should  accept  him 
as  worthy  of  their  fellowship,  although  he  may  never  have 
heard  the  name  of  Christ,  or  may  have  failed  to  be  convinced 
that  he  was  a  teacher  sent  from  God.  Please  let  me  know 
how  much  of  this  statement  you  are  ready  to  indorse. 

For  my  own  part,  I  am  a  supernaturalist,  or  what  others 
would  so  call.  I  believe  that  Jesus  worked  miracles.  I  be 
lieve  that  he  raised  dead  men  to  life,  and  that  he  himself 
arose  from  the  tomb  in  which  his  lifeless  body  had  been 
buried.  But  I  do  not  believe  that  his  miracles  are  the  most 
important  things  that  he  did,  nor  does  he  seem  to  me  so  to 
have  regarded  them.  I  believe  that  he  was,  or  will  be,  more 
than  any  other  man,  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  because  he 
inculcated  the  principles  of  true  righteousness,  the  righteous 
ness  of  God,  more  clearly  and  forcibly  than  any  other  teacher 
had  done  ;  and  because  he  illustrated  those  principles  and 
manifested  their  power  in  his  own  life  and  death. 

I  belies  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  the  best  teacher  of 
true  religion  that  ever  yet  has  lived  ;  and  that,  as  a  Christian 
minister,  it  is  my  duty  to  persuade  all  whom  I  can  influence 


CLOSING   YEARS.  285 

to  put  themselves  under  his  instruction  and  guidance  :  to 
learn  of  him  and  imbibe  his  spirit,  as  the  surest  way  to  sal 
vation. 

And  I  believe  that  when  men  shall  have  become  holy  as 
Christ  was  holy,  miracles  will  no  longer  seem  supernatural 
to  them,  and  that  some  of  them  may  do  even  greater  works 
than  Jesus  did.  Do  you  agree  with  me  so  far?  It  is  my 
intention  to  attend  the  Convention,  and  to  take  along  with  __ 
me  the  two  best  men  I  can  get  to  go.  Why  have  not  women  " 
been  invited  ?  God  made  man  dual,  and  it  is  not  wise  nor 
'safe  for  us  to  be  singular  in  our  attention  to  any  of  the  great 
concerns  of  life.  I  wish  we  could  have  such  women  as  Frances 
Power  Cobbe  and  L.  Maria  Child  and  Lucretia  Mott  with  us. 
I  am  sure  their  counsels  would  aid  us  as  much  as  those  of  any 
men  we  shall  have  there.  The  emancipation  and  enfranchise 
ment  of  women  is  the  great  work  to  be  done  before  the 
human  race  can  do  and  become  what  'the  Creator  intended 
them  to  be  and  do. 

Are  not  the  Universalists  to  be  invited  to  the  Convention? 
They  ought  to  be  recognized  by  us,  cordially  and  gratefully, 
as  a  most  valuable  part  of  the  body  of  liberal  Christians. 
They  have  .borne  a  most  faithful  and  persistent  testimony 
against  the  greatest  of  all  the  abominable  doctrines  of  the 
orthodox  theology;  and  the  brightest,  the  kingly  Starr,  in  our 
Unitarian  constellation,  was  one  of  their  number 
Yours  truly  and  affectionately, 

SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

He  seems  to  have  attached  a  special  value  to  the  let 
ters  which  were  written  in  acknowledgment  of  copies 
of  his  "  Brief  Account  of  my  Ministry,"  preached  when 
he  was  seventy  years  old.  These  cordial  notes  from 
Samuel  E.  Sewall,  Francis  G.  Shaw,  Charles  Eliot  Nor 
ton,  Adin  Ballon,  Maria  W.  Chapman,  John  H.  Hey  wood, 
John  W.  Chadwick,  and  many  others,  were  carefully 


286  LJFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

preserved.  We  found  them  in  a  package  which  also 
contained  other  papers  that  must  have  been  very 
precious  to  him,  including  a  fine  letter  from  Sister 
Hieronymo,  who  seems  to  have  been  at  the  head  of  St. 
Mary's  Hospital,  at  Rochester,  N.  Y.  Under  the  date 
of  February  20th,  1867,  she  writes  to  her  "  esteemed 
friend,"  expressing  her  faith  in  his  sincere  regard  for 
her,  and  her  knowledge  of  the  deep  interest  that  he  had 
ever  taken  in  establishments  which  had  for  their  end 
"the  alleviation  of  suffering  humanity,"  invoking  his 
assistance.  There  must  have  been  a  beautiful  sympathy 
between  the  Roman  Catholic  Sister  of  Charity  and  the 
Protestant  Brother  of  Mercy.  Her  letter  closes,  "  Yourg 
in  Christ." 

He  took  much  satisfaction  in  observing  the  harvest 
which  had  sprung  up  from  the  good  seed  which  he 
sowed  in  Windham  County,  Conn.,  many  years  before; 
and  it  was  with  great  delight  that  he  saw,  in  1865 
or  1866,  that  his  old  county  gave  a  large  majority  in 
favor  of  giving  the  ballot  to  colored  men,  when  all 
the  other  counties  of  the  State  gave  majorities  against 
the  righteous  measure. 

On  the  19th  of  July,  1869,  Mr.  May  gratified  a 
daughter  of  his  old  friend  and  classmate,  Dr.  J..  P. 
Spooner,  of  Dorchester,  by  writing  in  her  Book  of 
Preferences  that  his  favorite  flower  was  the  Pond  Lily ; 
his  favorite  color,  Light  Blue ;  his  favorite  musical  com 
position,  "  The  Last  Rose  of  Summer ; "  his  favorite 
painting,  Johnson's  "  Drummer  Boy ; "  his  favorite  dis 
sipation,  Russian  Backgammon ;  his  favorite  virtue, 


CLOSING  YEARS.  287 

Charity ;  his  particular  aversion,  Cant ;  the  animal  that 
he  liked  best,  a  Little  Child ;  his  favorite  prose- writers, 
Dr.  Channing  and  Theodore  Parker ;  his  favorite  poets, 
Whittier  and  J.  R.  Lowell;  his  favorite  preacher,  Ed 
ward  E.  Hale ;  his  favorite  singer,  Miss  Wheaton,  now 
Mrs.  Morgan ;  his  favorite  male  character  in  history, 
Jesus  of  Nazareth ;  his  favorite  female  character,  Mary 
L.  Ware ;  that  he  would  prefer  to  spend  the  summer  in 
.Massachusetts,  and  to  live  in  the  United  States ;  that 
he  would  be  satisfied  with  as  much  money  as  he  could 
spend  wisely ;  that,  in  his  opinion,  a  man  should  marry 
at  twenty-five,  and  a  woman  at  twenty-two ;  and  that 
the  journey  that  he  should  prefer  to  take  would  be  a 
trip  to  California. 

About  six  weeks  before  his  death,  Mr.  May  addressed 
the  following  letter  to  the  editor  of  a  paper  which  had 
contained  an  erroneous  account  of  his  views  of  the 
Bible:  — 

To  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  "  SYRACUSE  JOURNAL." 

I  have  just  read  in  your  daily  "  Journal  "  of  last  Saturday 
a  very  meagre  and,  in  several  particulars,  inaccurate  report 
of  the  semi-annual  meeting  in  Utica,  last  week,  of  "  The 
Central  New  York  Conference  of  Liberal  Christians."  I  am 
sure  that,  if  a  full  verbatim  report  of  all  that  was  said  in  the 
discussions  at  that  meeting  could  be  laid  before  your  read 
ers,  they  would  receive  a  very  diiferent  impression  from  that 
which  the  statements  in  your  paper  of  the  13th  must  have 
made. 

The  most  important  subject  discussed  by  us  was  :he  one 
proposed  by  Mr.  Gerrit  Smith  :  "  What  is  True  Religion  ? 
and  What  are  its  Requirements  ?  "  All  the  speakers,  if  we 
except,  perhaps,  Rov.  Mr.  Jewell,  of  Rome,  agreed  that  true 


288  LIFE   OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

religion  is  the  harmonious  development  of  our  moral  nature, 
in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  God  inscribed  by  him  upon 
our  hearts.  We  can  all  partake  in  some  humble  measure  of 
the  Divine  nature,  and  the  true  religion  is  that  which  leads 
us  to  unfold  that  divinity  and  keep  ourselves  in  harmony 
•with  it.  Jesus  Christ,  the  highest,  best  teacher  of  religion, 
continually  appealed  to  the  sense  of  the  right,  the  true,  the 
good,  which  he  knew  must  be  latent,  if  not  patent,  in  all  his 
hearers.  Many  of  his  instructions  were  given  in  parables, 
from  which  they  were  left  to  draw  the  intended  lessons  by 
their  own  discernment. 

It  was  insisted  by  several  of  the  speakers  at  our  meeting 
—  especially  by  Mr.  Smith,  Mr.  Mills,  and  myself  —  that  the 
Christian  world  has  been  misled  into  the  greatest  errors  by 
assuming,  the  Roman  Catholics  that  the  Pope,  and  the  Prot 
estants  that  the  Bible,  is  the  highest  authority  in  matters  of 
theology  and  religion.  To  assert  and  maintain  the  infalli 
bility  of  the  Bible  is  as  absurd  and  dangerous  as  to  assert  and 
maintain  the  infallibility  of  the  man  who  occupies  the  papal 
chair. 

I  repeat  what  I  said  at  Utica.  "  The  Bible  is,  I  believe, 
the  best  of  books.  In  it  we  find  the  highest,  the  sublimest 
moral  and  religious  precepts,  and  the  most  glorious  revela 
tions  of  the  character  of  God  and  of  the  nature  and  destiny 
of  man.  But  it  is  not  all  true,  not  all  of  equal  value  and 
authority.  There  are  in  it  many  words  that  could  never  have 
come  by  inspiration  of  the  pure,  benevolent,  and  holy  God. 
There  are  in  it  things  which  I  am  not  willing  my  children 
should  ever  read.  Indeed,  I  have  often  wished  that  we  had 
an  expurgated  Bible." 

In  another  part  of  our  discussion  I  said  :  "  It  seems  to  me 
necessary,  in  the  first  place,  to  define  what  Christianity,  the 
true  religion,  is.  It  is  not  to  be  learnt  equally  from  all  parts 
of  the  Bible  ;  from  the  words  and  acts  of  the  writers  and  dis 
tinguished  personages  in  the  Old  Testament  as  well  as  the 
New.  Jesus  Christ  is  the  best  teacher  of  Christianity,  which 


CLOSING   YEARS.  289 

I  revere  as  the  truest,  highest  manifestation  of  religion  ever 
yet  made  to  man.  We  should  learn  it  of  him.  We  should 
study  his  life  and  character  even  more  than  his  words.  Christ 
was  the  impersonation  of  Christianity.  We  should  contem 
plate  his  conduct  in  all  the  various  scenes  of  his  ministry, 
until  we  feel  the  influence  of  his  spirit,  and  realize  that  what 
he  was  we  should  aspire  and  strive  and  pray  to  become. 

Respectfully  yours,  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

SYRACUSE,  May  16, 1871. 

Rev.  C.  D.  B.  Mills  writes  to'us  :  — 

"  In  his  last  sickness  I  saw  him  several  times.  He  seemed 
not  to  be  apprehensive  that  he  was  nearing  the  end  of  his 
earthly  career,  at  least  he  was  deeply  preoccupied  with  plans 
of  future  work,  and  so  probably  hardly  thought  of  any  in 
terruption  at  hand.  His  mind  was  clear.  The  desire  to  do 
some  things  that  lay  immediately  before  him  was  very  strong, 
but  there  was  the  same  calm  poise,  and  the  peace  that  had 
habitually  marked  all  his  life.  Once  he  said  he  hoped  he 
should  live  two  or  three  years  longer  to  accomplish  some 
work  that  appeared  to  him  of  high  importance.  'In  the 
fall,'  said  he,  '  I  purpose  to  offer  to  our  Society  a  series  of 
Lectures  on  the  History  of  the  Bible,  that  very  valuable,  '* 
least  apprehended,  and  most  idolized  Book.'  He  was  very 
anxious  to  state  himself  more  fully  upon  this  point  of  the 
true  character  and  just  apprehension  of  the  Bible,  as  his 
views  had  been  made  the  subject  of  attack  and  gross  misrep 
resentation  by  a  Baptist  preacher  of  Syracuse,  at  the  very 
commencement  of  his  sickness. 

* '  On  another  occasion,  referring  to  his  past  life,  he  remarked 
that  on  review  he  now  saw  he  had  committed  some  mistakes, 
that  there  were  things  in  the  history  he  would  fain  wish  were 
otherwise.  *  But  in  purpose  I  have  wrought  for  Truth  ;  I 
have  sought  to  do  for  humanity.'  Referring  to  the  views 
that  he  was  coming  more  and  more  firmly  to  hold  regarding 
18  B 


290  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

authority,  the  historic  in  religion  and  the  ideal  standards, 
he  said  :  « In  large  part  alone,  and  at  some  personal  cost  to 
myself,  I  have  worked  my  way  along  to  light  and  liberty. 
I  see  more  and  more  clearly,  feel  increasingly  sure,  that  I 
come  here  to  the  solid  ground,  the  bed  rock.  I  stand  on  it 
firmly  and  with  full  assurance.  The  past  I  cannot  regard 
with  regret,  or  view  my  life  as  a  failure.  It  has  realized, 
has  netted  something  :  it  is  in  a  fair  degree  accomplishment 
and  success.  The  course  I  have  pursued  is  vindicated  to  my 
best  judgment,  and  I  feel  that  all  is  and  shall  be  well.' 

"  This  was  the  substance  of  what  he  said    I  cannot  repro 
duce  the  exact  language." 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

DEATH  AND  BURIAL. 

His  LAST  DAY  ON  EARTH.  —  PRESIDENT  WHITE'S  VISIT. — 
FAITH  IN  IMMORTALITY.  —  IMPRESSION  MADE  BY  HIS 
DEATH. — FUNERAL  SERVICES. 

MR.  MAY'S  death  was  quite  sudden.  In  the 
spring  of  1871  he  planned  a  visit  to  New  Eng 
land  of  considerable  length,  but  severe  illness  prevented 
his  leaving  home.  At  the  close  of  June,  however,  he 
felt  much  better,  and  began  to  look  forward  again  to 
seeing  his  Eastern  friends  once  more.  On  Saturday, 
the  1st  of  July,  he  was  remarkably  bright  and  hopeful, 
spending  several  hours  in  most  animated  conversation 
with  those  who  called  upon  him.  To  one  person  he 
made  cordial  mention  of  James  Freeman  Clarke's  book 
on  "  Ten  Great  Religions,"  then  recently  published,  and 
spoke  at  length  of  its  great  merits,  with  frank  allusions 
to  what  he  considered  some  limitations  and  defects.  In 
the  afternoon  a  visit  from  President  White,  of  Cornell 
University,  gave  him  much  pleasure.  He  was  delighted 
to  learn  that  a  generous  man  had  offered  the  University 
a  very  liberal  gift,  upon  the  condition  that  young  women 
should  have  the  same  advantages  as  young  men  in  that 
institution.  Mr.  May  promised  to  give  the  college  his 
of  Prudence  Crandall  if  this  should  be  consum- 


292  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

mated;1  and  he  parted  with  Mr.  White  in  the  most 
cheerful  and  affectionate  manner.  Indeed,  what  proved 
to  be  their  last  words  on  earth  to  each  other  were  over 
flowing  with  joy  and  hope.  President  White  said  that, 
in  view  of  the  rapid  advances  of  great  causes  which  Mr. 
May  had  so  much  at  heart,  he  must  consent  to  live  at 
least  thirty  years  longer,  to  enjoy  the  triumphs  of  truth 
and  right.  As  President  White  left  the  room,  Mr.  May 
called  after  him,  "  Andrew,  you  must  let  me  off  with 
•twenty  years,"  and  received  the  playful  reply,  "  No :  we 
really  cannot  spare  you  for  thirty  years."  2 

About  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  he  became  very  ill. 
As  his  strength  ebbed  away,  he  manifested  a  desire  that 
his  daughter  should  kiss  him,  and  then,  with  a  farewell 
smile,  his  spirit  took  its  upward  flight. 

On  Sunday  morning,  his  old  church  being  closed  on 
account  of  Mr.  Calthrop's  vacation,  many  of  his  parish 
ioners  were  in  Rev.  Mr.  Mundy's  congregation,  and  the 
announcement  of  his  death  from  the  pulpit  was  so  start 
ling  that  the  services  were  interrupted  by  the  sobbings 
of  the  bereaved  people.  The  whole  community  were 
deeply  impressed.  Colored  people  at  once  put  on 

1  Mr.  May  had  already  presented  to  this  University  his  large  and 
valuable  collection  of  books  and  pamphlets  relating  to  the  anti- 
slavery  contest. 

2  This  characteristic  playfulness  did  not  indicate  any  lack  of  his 
habitual  earnestness.    His  sincerity  was  such  that  he  could  always 
be  spontaneous.     In  another  mood,  not  long  before,  alluding  to  the 
uncertainty  of  his  recovery,  he  uttered  these  remarkable  but  equally 
characteristic  words :  "If  2  die,  I  may  have  a  clearer  vision,but  I  can 
not  have  a  surer  faith." 


DEATH  AND  BURIAL.  293 

mourning  badges,  as  they  had  done  when  Mr.  Lincoln 
died.  The  daily  papers  contained  long  and  glowing 
tributes  to  his  worth,  some  of  the  heartiest  expressions 
coining  from  the  Democratic  organ. 

On  the  days  between  his  death  and  burial,  the  house 
of  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Alfred  Wilkinson,  with  whom  he 
had  lived,  was  visited  by  many  friends  from  far  and 
near  who  wished  to  look  once  more  upon  his  face. 
.Gerrit  Smith  came  from  Peterboro,  notwithstanding  his 
own  illness,  and  also  wrote :  "  Mr.  May  was  the  most 
Christ-like  man  that  I  ever  knew.  He  made  Christ 
his  pattern;  and  how  successfully,  was  proved  by 
his  never-failing  gentleness,  meekness,  and  sweetness. 
Heaven  is  more  desirable  to  me  now  that  my  dear 
May  is  there." 

On  the  morning  of  Thursday,  July  6th,  there  was  a 
private  service  at  Mr.  Wilkinson's  house.  Rev.  Frederic 
Frothingham  read  appropriate  passages  of  Scripture, 
Rev.  W.  P.  Tilden  prayed,  and  Mr.  A.  Bronson  Alcott 
made  an  address  of  indescribable  beauty,  delicacy,  and 
tenderness.  At  ten  o'clock  the  body  was  removed  to 
the  church.  Not  long  afterwards  the  household  reas 
sembled  to  listen  to  the  reminiscences  of  Mr.  George  B. 
Emerson,  Rev.  W.  P.  Tilden,  and  others.  Mr.  Emerson 
spoke  of  his  early  and  ever-growing  love  for  Mr.  May, 
of  their  college  life,  and  of  the  delightful  Sunday  even 
ings  which  he  had  spent  with  him  at  Colonel  May's 
house  in  Boston.  Mr.  Emerson  believes  that  in  going 
to  Brooklyn,  Conn.,  and  declining  calls  to  other  places, 
Mr.  May  was  governed  by  the  consideration  that  in 


294  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

worldly  goods  it  was  the  poorest  parish,  and  least  likely 
to  obtain  a  desirable  pastor. 

After  the  precious  dust  had  been  placed  in  the  fa 
miliar  church  which  was  exquisitely  decorated,  before 
the  pulpit  from  which  he  had  spoken  so  many  bold  and 
loving  words,  it  was  visited  by  a  great  number  of  per 
sons.  "  The  casket  rested  upon  a  base  of  clematis  and 
evergreens.  On  the  lid  lay  a '  shock  of  wheat  fully  ripe 
and  fit  for  the  Master's  use.'  Over  the  centre  rested  a 
crown  of  lilies,  roses,  and  ivy :  at  the  foot  lay  a  wreath 
of  clematis  and  geraniums."  "  All  sorts  and  conditions 
of  men "  seemed  to  be  attracted  to  the  spot.  Among 
those  who  came  and  went  were  members  of  every  de 
nomination  and  political  party.  Protestant  Daughters 
of  Mercy  stood  beside  Roman  Catholic  Sisters  of  Char 
ity;  and  Indians,  with  "persons  of  African  descent," 
were  near  the  fairest  women  and  the  chief  men  of  the 
city. 

Just  before  the  time  appointed  for  the  public  service, 
a  violent  rain-storm  came;  but  the  people  were  too 
much  in  earnest  to  be  hindered  by  it.  Until  the  doors 
were  opened,  there  was  a  crowd  in  front  of  the  church, 
which  was  soon  densely  packed.  Twenty-one  clergy 
men  were  present,  including  a  Jewish  rabbi.  The  Presi 
dent  of  the  Board  of  Education  and  other  members  of 
the  Board,  with  many  teachers,  came.  The  Mayor,  the 
member  of  Congress,  the  Superintendent  of  the  Asylum 
for  the  Feeble  Minded,  and  other  prominent  citizens, 
including  at  least  one  Roman  Catholic,  were  pall-bear 
ers.  Rev.  Mr.  Calthrop  prayed.  Thomas  J.  Mumford 


DEATH  AND  BURIAL.  295 

read  selections  from  the  Bible.  Rev.  C.  D.  B.  Mills,  of 
Syracuse,  delivered  an  eloquent  address,  in  the  course 
of  which  he  said :  "  In  the  last  century  the  hut  of  a 
noted  Indian,  Logan,  chief  of  the  Mingoes,  is  said  to 
have  been  recognized  by  his  brethren  as  they  passed 
it,  by  the  inscription :  '  Here  lives  the  friend  of  the  white 
man.'  But  upon  the  door  of  that  unpretending  house 
standing  upon  yonder  hill-slope  might  have  been  in 
scribed  through  all  these  years, 4  Here  dwells  the  friend 
of  all  men  ! ' "  Mr.  Garrison  followed  with  an  admirable 
delineation  of  Mr.  May's  character,  including  a  most  apt 
quotation  of  Wordsworth's  "  Happy  Warrior."  Bishop 
Loguen,  of  the  African  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  a 
noble-looking  man  of  gigantic  stature,  then  spoke  very 
tenderly  of  this  friend  of  himself  and  his  people.  Rev. 
W.  P.  Tilden  read  excellent  notes  from  Rev.  Charles 
Lowe  and  Rev.  R.  R.  Shippen,  who  acknowledged  Mr. 
May's  great  services  to  the  Unitarian  cause ;  and  Mr. 
Tilden  added  his  own  tribute  of  personal  gratitude. 
After  prayer  by  Rev.  F.  Frothingharn,  "Nearer,  my 
God,  to  Thee,"  was  sung,  and  the  services  at  the  church 
were  closed  with  a  benediction. 

Hundreds  followed  the  body  to  Oakwood  Cemetery, 
two  miles  away.  Along  the  route  we  noticed  flags  at 
half-mast  over  little  houses  which  seemed  to  be  homes 
of  colored  people.  When  we  passed  citizens  on  the 
street,  they  stood  with  uncovered  heads  until  the  pro 
cession  had  gone  by.  Upon  reaching  the  grave,  the 
Sunday-school  children,  who  had  been  unable  to  get 
into  the  church,  were  formed  in  two  lines,  and  sang  a 
hymn :  — 


296  LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

"  In  that  sweet  by-and-by, 
By-and-by  we  shall  meet 
On  that  beautiful  shore." 

Rev.  Mr.  Calthrop  spoke  of  the  grand  lessons  of  Mr. 
May's  life,  and  called  upon  the  young  men  present  to 
heed  them.  President  Andrew  D.  White,  of  Cornell 
University,  said:  — 

"  Here  lies  before  us  all  that  was  mortal  of  the  best  man, 
the  most  truly  Christian  man,  I  have  ever  known;  the  purest, 
the  sweetest  ;  the  fullest  of  faith,  hope,  and  charity  ;  the 
most  like  the  Master. 

"  AVhen  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  was  read  this  afternoon, 
it  seemed  prophetic  of  the  man.  It  was  not  '  Blessed  are 
the  pure  in  heart,  who  accept  the  Thirty-nine  Articles ; '  not 
1  Blessed  are  the  peacemakers,  who  subscribe  to  the  decrees 
of  the  Council  of  Trent; '  not  '  Blessed  are  ye  when  men  shall 
revile <you,  provided  ye  agree  to  the  Westminster  Catechism.' 
No.  The  blessings  of  that  greatest  of  utterances  since  the 
world  began  were  without  human  tests,  and  they  fell  upon 
our  friend  in  full  measure,  and  his  life  was  the  radiant  wit 
ness  of  them,  and  we  all  saw  them. 

"  Had  our  Lord  come  upon  this  earth  again,  and  into  these 
streets,  any  time  in  these  thirty  years,  he  was  sure  of  one 
follower.  Came  he  as  black  man,  or  red  man,  or  the  most 
wretched  of  white  men  ;  came  he  in  rags  or  sores,  this,  our 
dear  friend,  would  have  followed  him,  no  matter  what  weap 
ons,  carnal  or  spiritual,  were  hurled  at  the  procession. 

"  I  account  it  among  the  greatest  of  blessings  that  it  was 
given  me  to  know  this  man  ;  and  I  shall  always  rejoice  that 
in  the  last  afternoon  of  his  life  I  spent  a  most  delightful  houi 
with  him,  and  bore  away  his  blessing." 

He  was  followed  by  Thomas  J.  Mumford,  Rev.  C.  D 
B.  Mills,  and  Rev.  E.  W.  Mundy.  After  the  casket 


DEATH  AND  BURIAL.  297 

was  lowered,  the  Sunday-school  children,  one  by  one, 
dropped  flowers  and  tears  into  the  grave.  This  ended 
the  touching  service ;  but  the  people  still  lingered,  as 
if  reluctant  to  leave  the  spot.1  Although  night  was 
at  hand,  it  was  some  time  before  the  cemetery  was 
deserted. 

1  His  little  grandchildren  coming  up  to  cast  in  their  flowers,  a 
common  impulse  to  follow  their  example  seemed  to  run  through 
the  throng  of  older  friends ;  and  perhaps  the  most  affecting  incident 
of  the  day  was  the  eagerness  with  which  they  crowded  forward  to 
express  in  this  personal  way  their  loAre  for  Mr.  May.  Any  thing 
like  a  flower,  even  a  leaf  from  a  tree,  was  enough ;  and  before 
the  earth  covered  it  the  casket  was  already  hidden  out  of  sight. 


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